Corinth
by Queenafoster
Summary: Small town sheriff...big problems
1. Chapter 1

Corinth

Riding past the "Welcome to Corinth" sign, Heath noted the posted population with approval. That was a decent number for a town this size. He hated ghost towns—places that began with spirit and enthusiasm, but then faded as the life slowly drained away leaving practically no one in dry, rotting, empty buildings. Ghost towns always made him think of Strawberry and the conflicted emotions his good and bad memories brought up.

As Charger moved down the main street, Heath noted the businesses: saloon, general store, livery, dress shop, hotel, boarding house, post office, telegraph, assayer's office. There was another building that would hopefully ensure the town's continued success. It sat right on the edge of town...the train station. Seemed like so many places these days looked to the railroad as a lifeline. Heath shook his head. Talk about conflicted emotions...

Heath pulled his horse up to the hitching post in front of the building marked "Sheriff." He was supposed to meet Jarrod there. Heath had been up north checking out some new timber land the family was considering. Jarrod was coming from the east where he'd been assisting a couple of old friends of the Barkley family with some legal issues. Corinth had been a convenient place to meet up, and Jarrod had chosen the Sheriff's office. Heath didn't know why the saloon wouldn't have done the job just as easily, but Jarrod had decided and that was that.

As he walked into the small office, a young man stood up behind the desk. Heath guessed he was probably a year or two younger than himself, but looks could be deceiving. Could be he was just one of them fellows that looked young.

"Can I help you?"

Heath smiled. "I'm Heath Barkley. I'm supposed to meet my brother, Jarrod, here."

The deputy frowned briefly and did a quick glance around the room. "Haven't seen him," came the reply in an amused tone.

Heath glanced around the small office as well and grinned. "Yeah, I guess not. Either he's late or I'm early. Or both."

The deputy grinned. "Well, you're welcome to wait for him if you want."

Heath pushed his hat back and smiled. "I'd be obliged."

The deputy reached to shake hands. "Bert Dodson, chief deputy."

Heath bit his lip in amusement as he returned the handshake. " _Chief_ deputy? How many deputies you got around here?"

Bert chuffed a laugh. "Now, you're not supposed to ask that."

Heath chuckled as well. "I figured. Sorry about that."

He started to sit down in the chair Bert indicated, but the door opened suddenly and in walked an older man wearing a badge. "Hey, Bert." He glanced at Heath. "What have we here?"

Bert came around the desk. "Sheriff Boggs, this is Mr. Barkley. He's supposed to meet his brother here."

Sheriff Boggs narrowed his eyes at Heath briefly as if to study him. "Well, I reckon that's all right, but I'd expect a young feller like you'd prefer meeting in the saloon."

Heath couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Yeah, that'd be right, but my brother made the choice, not me."

Boggs considered, "Why would he pick here?"

"Well, I didn't ask him straight out, but he's a lawyer. Maybe that has something to do with it."

"A lawyer, huh? He got business in this office?"

Heath shrugged. "He didn't mention it, but that don't mean he don't."

Boggs chewed on that for a bit as he studied Heath. "Your brother's a lawyer? I wouldn't expect a line rider like you to have a lawyer in the family."

"Well, I'd be the first to agree with you, but he is a lawyer, and as it happens, I'm not living job to job anymore." Heath didn't take issue with the line rider comment; he probably still looked like the drifter he'd been not too long ago. Most of the changes in his life were on the inside. Outside, he was still a cow puncher. The sheriff's comment was an easy mistake to make.

Boggs narrowed his eyes again. "You know, lawyers can be more trouble than they're worth."

Heath nodded agreeably. "I used to think the same thing, but he's not like that. He's got a real belief in justice—not just getting people off when they're guilty."

"Really? Well, what's his name? Maybe I've heard of him?"

"You might have. He's got a good reputation in these parts. It's Jarrod Barkley."

"Jarrod Barkley? Well, now, seems I have heard of him. Seen his name in the paper, and as it happens, I knew him as a boy. He's the son of an old friend of mine. Yeah, I knew Tom Barkley a long time ago. Did me a real good turn once upon a time. Real good turn."

Heath wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just held his tongue and nodded.

Boggs continued, "Let's see, Tom had three young 'uns last I 'member. There was Jarrod, and another boy, and a girl, and maybe there was another one coming. Are you the second boy? Seems to me his name was...Ned or something like that."

Heath shook his head. "That's my brother, Nick. Then was my sister, Audra, and my youngest brother is Eugene."

The sheriff looked at Heath in speculation, "Well, where do you fit in there, boy?"

Heath glanced down. It had been a while since he'd run into anyone who was unaware of the events relating to his introduction to the family. "Well, I'm the one on the outside."

In response, Sheriff Boggs shifted in his chair, and Bert looked curious. Boggs spoke up, "Maybe you'd better explain yourself, boy."

Heath took a deep breath. "Victoria Barkley didn't bring me into the world."

The sheriff stared at Heath a moment then blinked. "What'd you say?"

"Tom Barkley wasn't married to my mother. I was born between Nick and Audra."

Sheriff Boggs shook his head. "You're lying. Ain't no way what you're saying is true. Ain't no way."

Heath took another deep breath. "Well, I can understand you not wanting to believe it, but it is true."

Boggs shook his head. "Nope, it ain't neither. And I don't appreciate you going around spreading these rumors. Slandering the name of a good man! A man that ain't here to defend himself now."

Heath worked to keep his temper. "It's only slander if it's not true."

The sheriff was adamant. "And it ain't true!"

"I'm afraid it is."

"It ain't! You're just a big fake, a...a...a... _fraud!_ Going around claiming to be something you're not!"

Heath kept cool. "Sheriff, I am who I say I am."

The sheriff was livid, and his face was turning unusual colors. "No. You. Ain't! Now, you just hush, and I mean now! You're just a big fraud. Tom Barkley wasn't the kind of man who'd do that kind of thing, and I won't have you running him down! He was honorable! Many's the time I heard him talk of his wife, and he wouldn't have done such a low-down, no-account deed like you're suggesting."

Heath chewed the inside of his lip and counted to ten before responding. "Look, Sheriff, when Jarrod gets here, he can tell you himself and clear this whole thing up. I'm sorry I've got you upset."

The sheriff took a second to think then calmly replied, "Oh, my. Now, you've done it. Not only are you slandering a good man's name, committing fraud by claiming to be something you ain't, but you're also ex-hort—, ex-stork—, ex-horg—" He took a deep breath to redirect himself, "You're blackmailing that family!"

Heath's eyes popped open at the suggestion. "Sheriff, that's not—"

"And I ain't gonna let you do it no more. Bert, lock him up."

Heath blinked in surprise and looked at Bert who appeared just as shocked and spoke up. "But, Sheriff—"

"I didn't ask your opinion, Deputy. I done told you to lock him up. Now, do it!" 


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Bert looked back at Heath and shrugged helplessly. Heath let out a deep breath and shook his head slightly. Funny how quick things could turn around. He moved over to Bert and shrugged in bewilderment.

"I said to lock him up, Deputy!"

Bert looked at Heath apologetically and opened the door that led back to the cells. There were two cells in the back room, and one was already occupied by another young man that Heath guessed to be close to Nick's age.

Bert opened the door to the other cell. "I'm sorry about this. Sheriff Boggs gets an idea sometimes, and it kinda carries him away."

"Don't worry about it. Jarrod'll straighten it out when he gets here."

Heath moved into the cell and heard the door lock behind him. He looked across to the man in the opposite cell as Bert went back into the front office. The fellow looked up briefly and then drooped back into the stooped, depressed slouch Heath first noticed.

Heath thought about asking what was wrong when the man quietly asked, "What'd he railroad you for?"

Heath briefly smiled but hid his grin at the other man's obvious low mood. "Well, he doesn't believe I am who I say I am."

"He thinks you're lying? Well, I sure know how that feels."

"Heath Barkley."

"Clive Keenan."

"How come you're here?"

Clive gave a wry grin. "He thinks I robbed a bunch of stagecoaches."

"You didn't do it?"

"Nope." He glanced up to check Heath's reaction. "Really. I didn't."

Heath was willing to give him a chance just based on his own experience with the sheriff. "Why does he think you did?"

The prisoner gave an unamused laugh. "Someone found a mail bag from one of them on my property."

"How big is your place?"

"I got about two hundred acres. And there's road going through the middle of it."

"Anybody could have dropped it, right?"

"And I'm new to the area. Just moved here about a year and a half ago."

Heath thought briefly. That was just about how long he'd be with his family. A lot could happen in a year and a half. "That's a pretty long time. Surely you've made some friends who could vouch for you?"

"No." Clive seemed to consider that for a moment, then he shook his head regretfully. "No. A few enemies, but no close friends. Acquaintances, yes, but no one who'd stand up for me with suspicion like this hanging over me."

Heath thought of his time as a deputy and his run-ins with the law. "What about an alibi?"

Clive shook his head. "I've got two hundred acres and no help. I work on my own pretty much every day, dawn to dusk. Days go by when I don't see another soul."

Heath chewed on that and tried a different idea. "How 'bout your enemies? Could they be trying to frame you?"

Clive shrugged. "Maybe. Anything's possible. But I'm stuck in here and can't get out to find any other explanation. And _Sheriff Boggs_ is certain he's got his man, so he's not even looking for anyone else."

Heath thought about what he'd learned. "His evidence is a stolen mail pouch that was found on your land? That's it?"

Clive nodded. "Yeah."

"No witnesses? He didn't find any loot from the robbery?"

"No."

"That's going to be a tough case for the prosecutor, I would think. There's no real proof."

Clive shook his head in discouragement. "Nobody to stand up for me. Sheriff's convinced I did it—not even looking for anyone else; no way for me to prove I didn't do it. No other explanation to offer." He paused. "I'm going to prison."

Heath walked over to the bars and looked at the dejected man. "Don't give up. You never know what might happen. I mean, I'm in jail, and all I did was try to meet my brother at the sheriff's office. Now, my brother, Jarrod, he's gonna pitch a fit when he finds out what that sheriff did. I don't think it'd take much to get him to help you out, too. He's gonna be spitting fire when he gets me out. That heat might as well benefit someone else while he's in the mood."

With that, Clive finally lifted his head to look at Heath full on. "Really?"

"Sure. Why not?"

Clive looked at him questioning. "Why would you do that? You don't even know me."

Heath felt bad for the man. He'd been there himself—all alone with no one to help out. "Why wouldn't I? I found out for myself how Sheriff Boggs can jump to conclusions. You seem like a decent man who needs a fighting chance. I think my brother would help you."

Clive looked at Heath in wonder. "Thanks. I'd appreciate whatever he could do if you think he'd help me."

Heath waved him off. "Don't worry about it. A word or two at the right moment—you'll be out of here in no time."

"You seem pretty sure about this brother of yours."

"He's...well, he's something else. And he's a really good lawyer."

At that, Clive perked up. "A lawyer? Really? And you think he'll argue for me?"

Heath nodded decisively. "Yeah."

Clive let out a long breath. "Mr. Barkley, if this works, I'd never be able to thank you enough."

Heath shrugged. "I'm Heath, and don't worry about it. People have helped me out in the past. Next time you see someone needing help—that's how you pay me back."

Clive just stared. "All right." He paused, then continued, "I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you, Heath."

Heath breathed a laugh. "Wait'll you meet Jarrod."

Clive grinned, appearing more hopeful. "Must be some kind of fellow."

Heath nodded. "I think we're in for a real show when he gets here." He paused a bit. "So, how is it you got people mad enough to maybe frame you, but no friends to stand up for you?"

Clive shrugged. "I've got a couple of lawsuits pending."

Heath's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Lawsuits? Who'd you make mad? Or who are you mad at?"

Clive shook his head. "Well, like I said, I've only been here a year and a half. I bought my spread from a widow lady who hadn't kept the place up for a while and had let the fencing go. One of her neighbors had decided that since no one was harvesting the apples from her orchard, that he'd do it and sell them. He didn't have an agreement with her, he just did it. And, surprisingly enough, I consider those apples my property since I now own the trees. And he disagrees. So we're going to court to settle our differences."

Heath nodded. "I can see how that would be a problem. What about the other one?"

Clive shook his head with regret. "It's even more complicated." He paused then began again. "There's a ridge along the eastern side of my property. On the other side of that ridge is a fellow who's working a small gold mine in the side of the hill. That mine tunnels into the hill and under my property line. Now the property lines to my place were established by the previous owners and that predates the gold claim. So if the gold is under land that I own, shouldn't it belong to me? I can understand his claim, but I think mine is just as valid. So I sued him to let the judge decide who's right. If it's him, all right. I just don't want anyone to be stealing from me. He took it real personal and got mad."

Heath let out a deep breath. This was pretty complicated. "Well, I can understand that, too. He probably sees it that you're trying to steal from him."

Clive shrugged. "Yeah, I get that, but that's why I figured the judge needs to decide between us."

Heath grinned and shook his head. "I'm glad I don't have to be that judge. I've been in both your places, so I can understand how each of you feel."

"Yeah, I get it, too. But if it's my property, then I want it to be mine."

Heath nodded and decided to move on. "All right. So do you think either of these men could or would have tried to frame you?"

Clive thought briefly and then shrugged. "I wouldn't have thought so, but I can't come up with anyone else."

"Do they have friends that might have done it?"

"Like I said, I wouldn't have thought so. Vardosky, the miner, he seems to be real loner, but he's been around here for years. Giles, the rancher who's taking my apples, he's been here twenty years, but I can't think of any of his friends who'd be so upset with me to go to this length. But unless this was just a coincidence—that the real robbers just dropped it on my place to get rid of it—then I can't come up with anything else. And honestly, I don't suspect either of them being stage robbers. They've both lived in this area a few years. Vardosky barely comes up for air out of that hole in the ground, and Giles is an older man, a widower. He raised his children here. His daughter keeps house for him and his son is...well...he's slow, I guess you could say. And Mr. Giles, his spread is about the size of mine. He's busy all the time, too. He don't have time to be robbing stagecoaches."

Heath considered all that, turning over Clive's reasoning in his head. "Do you know anyone around who might've had the time to be committing these robberies?"

Clive shook his head. "I've met a lot of people, but I don't know how they spend their time every day."

Heath conceded the point. A hard working man didn't bother himself with that kind of detail.

At this point, his thoughts were interrupted when he heard the front door opening in the outer office. Hopefully, that was Jarrod coming in. 


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Jarrod rode up to the sheriff's office in Corinth. Down the street, he noted Charger at the rail near a trough. Heath had beat him to town, and he figured it was even money if he found him in the sheriff's office or the saloon where a thirsty cowboy would want to quench his thirst. But Jarrod had wanted to touch base with his father's old friend, Sheriff Roscoe Boggs, and properly introduce Heath as a new member of the family.

Jarrod remembered Sheriff Boggs from various trips with his father when he used to do quite a bit of business in the area surrounding Corinth. It had been a nice central location for them to take care of Tom's business, and Tom and Sheriff Boggs had become friends over the years. They met when Tom was bringing some cattle into town, and some rustlers tried to jump him. Young Deputy Boggs had evened the odds. When the previous sheriff left office, Tom had written a letter of recommendation for the deputy that helped him secure the job he'd now held for the last twenty years. Sheriff Boggs had been quite thankful and effusive with his gratitude and always went out of his way to praise his old friend, Tom Barkley.

Jarrod remembered the man as having a bit of a self-inflated ego, but that made for some good laughs between Jarrod and his father on the way home. His father had been very good at re-creating Sheriff Boggs's sing-song, somewhat preachy voice. Boggs liked to hear himself talk and was always very animated in his long, drawn out explanations of whatever happened to be the topic of the moment. And Jarrod had frequently laughed himself silly at his father's mimicry. Neither Jarrod nor Nick had inherited that talent and he doubted Heath had either, but Jarrod would bet money that Eugene would probably be quite good at it.

Jarrod pulled Jingo to a stop at the rail beside Charger and hitched him with plenty of rein to allow his horse to drink his fill. He stood there briefly deciding whether to head to the sheriff's office or the saloon. If it had been Nick, Jarrod wouldn't have had the chance to suggest the sheriff's office at all, but Heath had conceded easily. For that reason, Jarrod decided to head to the office. They could go to the saloon after seeing the sheriff.

Jarrod walked in but didn't see his brother. He was a bit surprised that he had guessed wrong, but Heath was, after all, Nick's brother. The saloon had been almost even money. He headed across the room to greet Sheriff Boggs.

The sheriff jumped up. "Can I help you?"

Jarrod grinned. "I guess you don't remember me. It's been too long. I'm Jarrod Barkley. I used to come in occasionally with my father, Tom."

Sheriff Boggs looked positively delighted and pumped Jarrod's hand enthusiastically. "Why sure, I remember you. And I can still see some of the boy I knew in the young man in front of me. You may not remember this, but your pa did me an awful good turn once upon a time, and I always try to repay my debts. I don't know what brought you here, but it is a fortunate turn as I was gonna have to contact you and your family anyhow."

"Well, it's a good thing I happened by then." Jarrod considered the man. He had not changed much in the ten or fifteen years since he'd seen him—perhaps slightly grayer but still in good shape. He glanced at the deputy who had drifted up to the sheriff's left elbow and looked somewhat uncomfortable. Jarrod reached to shake his hand as well. "Jarrod Barkley."

The deputy grimaced a smile and returned the handshake. "Bert Dodson."

Jarrod nodded and wondered at the deputy's discomfiture, but turned back to Sheriff Boggs. "Now, what were you going to contact the Barkley family about, Sheriff?"

The deputy almost flinched and started to answer, but Sheriff Boggs jumped on it. "First of all, allow me to extend my deepest regrets on the passing of your dear father. A fine man he was and a great loss to your family and all of California. Always admired the man a great deal."

Jarrod accepted with gratitude. "Thank you, Sheriff. I appreciate that."

The sheriff bit his lip, "And that's actually part of the reason I was going to send for you. Your papa's not here to defend himself. So I took up his cause."

Jarrod was surprised at that and started to ask when the deputy interrupted, "Sheriff Boggs, shouldn't we—"

Boggs got irritated and raised his voice, "Bert, I'm telling this, ain't I?"

"But, Sheriff—"

" _Bert!_ Why don't you just _hush?_ "

Seeing the disagreement, Jarrod was now more curious than disturbed about the problem. Jarrod watched patiently as Bert bit his tongue, nodded reluctantly, and glanced at Jarrod with regret. As Jarrod and Boggs watched, Bert headed over to stand by the door back to the cells, conceding that the sheriff was in charge. After Bert got settled, a baffled Jarrod turned back to Sheriff Boggs to await the pronouncement.

The sheriff nodded at Bert in satisfaction, visibly collected himself, and turned back to Jarrod. "Now, young man, don't get overly excited. We're gonna handle this. Just don't you worry." The sheriff was waving his hands in a placating manner as if to calm Jarrod from an overblown reaction. Since Jarrod had not yet heard anything to get excited about, he nodded, encouraging Boggs to continue.

"Now, you're a lawyer, ain't ya? Someone told me that."

"That's correct."

He continued, "Now, easy now, keep a hold on it."

Jarrod glanced over at the deputy who just shook his head and folded his arms in resignation. Jarrod looked back at Sheriff Boggs. "All right."

The sheriff let out a deep breath and paused before his pronouncement. Then— "There's a young fella going around claiming to be your papa's...uh...back woods colt."

Jarrod rolled his eyes at the huge buildup that resulted in such an abrupt let down. "You've met Heath?"

Sheriff Boggs blinked in surprise, and Deputy Bert bit his upper lip. Boggs sputtered, "You know about that mangy, no-account liar?"

Jarrod was surprised and somewhat angered at the label and vehemence of the question. He calmly and carefully enunciated his response. "Sheriff, he's not lying."

Bert wouldn't even look at Jarrod, and Boggs appeared nonplussed. Then he smiled. "Of course, he's lying. There ain't no way your daddy would do that to your mother. He was an honest, God-fearing man. He wouldn't do such a dishonorable thing."

Jarrod smiled briefly, knowing that he had once believed his father infallible and appreciated the sheriff's faith in his old friend. "I understand how you might disbelieve it, but it is true, nonetheless."

Bert continued to bite his lips together, but Sheriff Boggs now seemed disturbed. "That can't— That just— Now...now, Jarrod, son, you're still a young man. And...uh...you have to be careful about just accepting folks at face value."

Jarrod hazarded a brief grin. Sometimes people who knew him as a boy had a hard time understanding he was now grown. "I assure you, Sheriff, we are quite certain that Heath is a Barkley."

Deputy Bert was now studying the ceiling with great intensity.

Sheriff Boggs's eyebrows knitted together as he tried to assimilate Jarrod's intransigence. He swallowed audibly. "All right. Maybe he is, maybe he ain't. But he don't need to be going around slandering your daddy's name. And your family shouldn't feel you have to compensate him to keep his mouth shut. That's Ex-Hor-Ta-Shun."

Jarrod's eyes narrowed as he tried to puzzle out that last word. Finally it popped into his head—Extortion! "Oh, blackmail!" Jarrod shook his head and smiled. "We appreciate your concern, Sheriff, but that's not an issue." Jarrod decided not to mention that he and his brothers had originally tried to buy Heath off to get him to disappear. "Heath isn't blackmailing us. He lives with the family."

Deputy Bert now seemed to find the tips of his boots completely fascinating.

Sheriff Boggs, though, was about to have an apoplectic fit. He was sputtering, "Even if he is— You don't— You just can't— You don't have to— _That ain't done!_ "

Jarrod waited. He'd experienced this type of reaction before.

Boggs kept going, "You just don't— He's not— He's an embarrassment to your daddy's good name! To your whole family! You can't ask your fine mother to accept a bastard like that into her family! And it done says in the Good Book that you ought not do that! I know I read it. It says something about a man born of a harlot, and the brothers born to the man's legal wife done _thrust_ him out 'cause of him being the son of a strange woman. It's somewhere in _'Vit'cus_ or _Deut'ronmy_ or _Judges_ , I'm thinking. I know my bible now, and it's in there!" *

Jarrod lost his friendly patience at the ugly word just applied to the good man he knew his brother to be. "Sheriff, I'm going to overlook the name calling. Heath is a valued and well-loved member of the Barkley family. My mother fully supported his inclusion into the family, and she looks on him as if he were her own—just like all the rest of us."

Deputy Bert was now trying to pick out bits of food stuck between his teeth.

Sheriff Boggs looked horror stricken. "You can't just— That's not—"

Jarrod let him sputter for a few seconds longer then interrupted, "Now, it's clear to me that you and Heath have gotten off on the wrong foot. I'll just collect him over at the saloon, and you two can start all over."

Deputy Bert was now finally looking at Jarrod and slowly shaking his head.

Sheriff Boggs still couldn't seem to understand that the Barkleys had taken Heath into the family and was mumbling to himself unintelligibly. Jarrod occasionally caught a 'Thou shalt not...' in the murmurs.

Jarrod turned back to question Bert's negative assessment. "He doesn't want a proper introduction?"

Bert shook his head again. "Heath's not at the saloon."

Jarrod blinked in surprise. "All right. Where is he?"

Bert turned and opened the door leading into the back. Where the cells were.

Jarrod became alarmed and looked at Sheriff Boggs and then back to Bert. "He locked him up?"

Bert nodded regretfully. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he was so sure Heath was blackmailing your family."

Jarrod hurried over to the door to see Heath standing in the left cell looking back at him patiently. He then turned his glare back to Sheriff Boggs who was now tongue-tied and trying to find an explanation. Jarrod didn't wait to hear what he had to say. "Get him out of there! Now!"

* _Judges_ 11:1-2 


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

Heath and Clive stood at the bars of the facing cells and listened intently to the voices from the front room. It was hard to hear clearly, but Heath was able to distinguish that Jarrod had arrived. Heath nodded over to Clive, "That's him. We should be out of here pretty soon."

Clive grinned, and the two of them stood waiting. Shortly, Heath noted that the voices were getting louder. He thought it was Sheriff Boggs's voice that was being raised. Heath knew Jarrod would be calm till he found out that Boggs had locked Heath up...and why. Then, Heath heard the sheriff call him a bastard and winced. That would definitely speed things up. Heath wished he was out there to watch Jarrod get going.

A few minutes later, the door to the office opened up, and Heath heard Jarrod's voice clearly, "He locked him up?"

The deputy answered him and then Jarrod came into the doorway. Heath just looked at him and waited.

Jarrod was furious. "Get him out of there! Now!"

Bert came back and unlocked Heath's cell. Jarrod followed and carefully examined Heath once he was out. "Are you all right?"

"I've only been here about an hour. I knew you'd straighten everything out."

Jarrod nodded then turned to Sheriff Boggs who was standing in the office doorway. Jarrod began, "Sheriff Boggs, I strongly protest your treatment of my brother. Regardless of whether you personally believed him, you don't just lock someone up because of what they said."

Boggs tried to defend himself. "Now, listen here. I'm sorry about the mistake, but I thought he was slandering your family. It's against God's law, and on top of it, I thought he was ex-hort-ta-ting you. "

Heath puzzled briefly on the word, but Jarrod cleared it up for him. "That's _extorting_ , Sheriff, but regardless, you had no proof! You don't just lock a person up for what _you_ perceive as an insult!"

"Well, how was I to know he was living with you?"

Jarrod's voice rang out across the small room, "Half of California knows! It must have run in every newspaper in the state!"

"Well, I didn't see it! Fine! I was wrong, all right?"

Heath took that moment to quietly introduce Clive's problem. "Uh, Jarrod, that may not be all he's wrong about."

Jarrod looked at him intently. "What else, Heath?"

"Jarrod, this is Mr. Clive Keenan. The sheriff believes he's behind a series of stagecoach robberies in the area."

Jarrod rounded on Boggs. "What evidence do you have against this man?"

The sheriff looked much more confident now. "I found the mail pouch from one of the robberies on his property."

Heath watched Jarrod's face as he waited in vain for the rest of Sheriff Boggs's evidence. Heath almost smiled when Jarrod blinked as he realized there was no more forthcoming.

"That's it? A mail pouch from _one_ of the robberies? How many robberies have there been? What else was taken?"

Boggs now started to look alarmed. "There have been four or five robberies—"

"Is it four or five?"

"Uuhhh, well—"

Bert piped up quietly, "Six."

Jarrod glared reprovingly at the sheriff. "What else was taken?"

Boggs looked dissatisfied. "The strong box was full of gold on each stage. And the robbers also took the passengers' personal valuables."

Jarrod was really getting into interrogation mode. Heath wished Nick was here. They both loved to watch him go after someone...especially when it wasn't one of them.

Jarrod was relentless. "Have you found any of the rest of the stolen property?"

"No."

"Where did you find the mail pouch?"

"Inside his fence line."

"How much property does he own?"

"Uhhh..."

Clive chimed in helpfully, "About two hundred acres."

Jarrod took in Clive at a glance. Heath knew his brother was very good at sizing people up quickly. Jarrod nodded to Clive one time, then turned back to Sheriff Boggs. "Do you have any witnesses?"

"Well, all the people that got robbed!"

Heath watched Jarrod try to control his anger. "Have they identified Mr. Keenan as a suspect?"

"Well, no."

Jarrod shook his head. "Have you questioned them yourself?"

"No."

Jarrod turned to Bert, not even bothering to ask Sheriff Boggs this next one. "He said 'robbers.' How many were involved in each robbery?"

Bert was ready. "There were eight robbers each time according to the passengers."

Jarrod rounded back to the sheriff. "Eight? Eight robbers? Who are your other suspects?"

"Well…I ain't got any."

"Did you get a search warrant for Mr. Keenan's property?"

"No warrant, but me and Bert looked around and didn't find nothing."

Jarrod was breathing hard in his attempts to rein in his temper. "Has Mr. Keenan been living beyond his means?"

Sheriff Boggs looked puzzled. "What?"

"Let me rephrase the question. Has Mr. Keenan been spending more money than he did before the robberies?"

"No, but he's a trouble-maker."

"How so?"

"Well, he moved in here a couple years ago and just kept to himself. Then he starts suing his neighbors right and left. So that must mean he's needing cash. That's motive."

Jarrod blinked in surprise, and his brow lowered in intensity. "Let me see if I have a clear picture of your case against my client, Mr. Keenan." Jarrod paused to flick a glance over to Clive who nodded once. He turned back to the sheriff. "You have had six stagecoach robberies committed by eight men who stole gold, personal property, and at least one mail bag that was allegedly recovered _inside the fence line_ of property belonging to my client—who as a hard working rancher—is unable to be on every square foot of his two hundred acres at once. None of the victims have positively identified my client as a suspect, nor do you have any idea who the other seven accomplices might be. You have no evidence indicating that my client has ever had any contact with the rest of the stolen property—which is still missing—despite the fact that you made an illegal search of his ranch.

"In truth, Sheriff Boggs, you have no proof that my client had any involvement in these robberies other than finding one single mail pouch on his property that could have been placed there by anyone. And, of course, let's not forget that he has legal issues awaiting settlement by the court of which you are an officer. An officer who should, by all accounts, be able to render a non-biased investigation of the case. An investigation that has been slipshod at best. And let's not even discuss your prejudice against him.

"I request you release my client immediately for lack of evidence!"

Sheriff Boggs had the appearance of being knocked down a few pegs by Jarrod's speech, but this request shocked him. "Release him? I can't do that!"

Jarrod was implacable. "Then I'll wire the circuit judge and request an arraignment to see if you have enough evidence to hold my client for trial. The details of your _thorough_ investigation will be presented, and I have no doubt that the judge will issue a ruling in favor of my client."

Boggs looked dissatisfied and appeared to be thinking of a protest, but Bert made a suggestion. "Sheriff, I know Mr. Keenan is kinda new in town, and you don't like that he's sued your friends, but there ain't enough evidence to hold him right now. We can keep looking, maybe find more later. We could arrest him again if we find that evidence."

Boggs eyed his deputy and looked disgusted but finally gave in. "Fine! Keenan, you can go on home. But don't you try leaving the area. You're guilty. And me and Bert'll prove it!"

Clive looked from Jarrod's calm rage to Heath's quiet reassurance. He grabbed his hat up from the cot as Bert unlocked and opened the door. Leaving the cell, he glared at the sheriff in resentment.

In the front office, Jarrod shook hands with Clive. "Mr. Keenan, if the sheriff arrests you again, you be sure and send me a wire. I'll come back." Jarrod turned to the sheriff and continued, "And I will be checking on this, Sheriff. You had better have solid evidence next time you attempt to imprison my client." Turning once more, he inquired, "Heath?"

Heath nodded that he was ready to go. Before leaving, he acknowledged Bert for his efforts to make the sheriff see reason and received a minute grin and shrug in return as Bert admitted his unsuccessful attempts.

Outside, Heath shook hands with Clive who was expressing his appreciation to Jarrod. Jarrod nodded briefly and tried to expel his indignation at Boggs. "Would either of you boys care for a drink?"

Clive regretfully shook his head. "I've been away from my place all week. I've got to get home and check my stock." He turned and headed for the livery.

As he left, Jarrod turned to Heath and briefly studied him. "What about you, Heath? Fancy a drink? On Pappy?"

Heath shook his head wryly. "I'd just as soon see the back end of this place if it's all the same to you."

Jarrod clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I concur, little brother, I concur. Let's get out of here."

Heath reflected on the events at the sheriff's office. He always enjoyed watching Jarrod in full throat, his righteousness giving his voice a power and reach similar to a preacher. It was with great pride that Heath supported his brother's eloquent stand for the everyday man.

As he followed Jarrod to their horses, Heath knew Nick had the same talent in a somewhat less refined way. Nick's voice had power—no one who'd ever heard the sheer volume could deny that. But his words also carried the same ring of truth that Jarrod's did, and men never failed to listen to what Nick had to say. His overwhelming physical presence gave his words weight, but there was never any question about Nick's opinions after he got done talking. And men were usually swayed to his side by the time he was finished.

Heath shook his head slightly. Jarrod and Nick must have gotten the ability from Victoria because that trait had completely bypassed him. His voice was generally low, and he didn't flap his yap too often. Always seemed better to let people think him ignorant than to open his mouth and prove it. He knew he wasn't dumb by any stretch, but his formal education was sadly lacking. Most of the time he didn't understand all the aspects of the deals and contracts that Nick and Jarrod tried to explain. He could admit as much to his brothers without fear of ridicule because he knew he added very practical, day-to-day working knowledge of many aspects of the Barkleys' various business interests. And they both patiently attempted explanations of the more complicated details. Heath acknowledged that some of them were now much clearer due to his brothers' efforts, but it seemed that just as many were still mired in indecipherable mumbo-jumbo. So, in general, Heath preferred to let his brothers take the lead in most matters, and he backed them up with his physical presence. Let other people think what they wanted about Heath's intelligence. They could all go to blazes as far as he was concerned.

As they rode along, Heath gradually became aware that Jarrod was observing him quietly. He let it continue for several more miles, waiting to see if Jarrod would get around to what was bothering him. Heath finally figured he better ask. He glanced over, "Something on your mind, Jarrod?"

Jarrod looked away briefly then offered a small smile. "Just wondering if you're all right?"

That surprised him. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

Jarrod raised an enquiring brow. "That was a pretty extreme reaction from Sheriff Boggs back there."

Heath shrugged. "Yeah, a little more than usual."

"And you're all right with that?"

"Well, I didn't enjoy it, but no harm done. I knew it was temporary. You were coming and would set everything to right. And it got Clive out of jail in the process. So, really, good came out of it."

Jarrod shook his head. "But he locked you up for telling the truth."

Heath shrugged. "He didn't know that. He was defending the Barkley name. Hard to fault a man too much for defending my own family. Even if it's from me."

Jarrod shook his head again. "That's not fair to you, Heath. You shouldn't have to pay for something you had no control over."

Heath glanced at Jarrod's dismayed face. "I know that, Jarrod, and I appreciate that you're all torn up about it. But it serves no purpose. What should or shouldn't happen ain't got nothing to do with what actually does. You know that as well as me. If I got stuck on that kind of thing, I wouldn't get a moment's peace."

Jarrod studied him a moment. "I don't know that I could accept that, Heath."

Heath offered a smile. "Sure you could. You can't change some people. But others eventually come around. Like Nick, for instance."

Jarrod nodded. "All right. I see your point. But I admire that you're able to be so calm about it."

"I haven't always been, but having a family that'll always be there supporting me has done a lot to help that. On balance between dealing with small minded people like Sheriff Boggs and having a brother who'll get me out of jail no matter what, I come out the winner."

Jarrod laughed, "All right. You're fine. I'll shut up and leave you alone."

Heath put on a disappointed face. "Come on, Jarrod. I've had a couple weeks of peace and quiet. After being on the trail with Nick so often, I'm kind of used to having someone yammer on and on. And on. I've even gotten pretty good at answering with a grunt or a nod at the right time to let him know I'm still paying attention." Heath paused to rearrange his face to innocence. "I don't mind you talking non-stop if you've a mind to."

Jarrod grinned and shoved Heath's shoulder. "How does Nick put up with you?"

Heath blinked in supposed surprise. "How does _Nick_ put up with _me?_ _Now_ , I'm offended. You've really done it this time!"

Heath enjoyed hearing his brother chuckle as they rode on toward home. 


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

Nick threw the wire cutters and hammer on the buckboard and let out a deep sigh of frustration. He paced a couple lengths of fence trying to decide what to do. Something was wrong with Heath. Had been ever since he and Jarrod had returned home the previous week. Heath was normally pretty closed mouthed, but this was a different kind of silence. This was the quiet when Heath was chewing on something. Something that was bothering him.

Jarrod had told the family about that idiot sheriff in Corinth the day after he and Heath returned home. Nick had been furious, Audra upset, and Mother disturbed that a lawman would act in such an unprofessional manner, especially one who had been an old acquaintance of Tom's. Jarrod had also spoken of Heath's calm acceptance of the whole event. Heath never even mentioned the whole mess.

Since Heath had been away for so long and Nick had been missing his brother, he'd decided to assign them to work together for a while. That first day, after hearing about the idiot sheriff, Nick had stomped around in a huff, his anger only partially subsiding as he worked with Heath. His brother, on the other hand, seemed completely calm and not at all upset just as Jarrod described. Eventually Heath's demeanor had rubbed off, and Nick had gotten over his mad.

But as his own anger subsided, Nick began to notice the disquiet in his brother. It wasn't anything Heath said or did—that wasn't his way—but there was a definite change in him. Nick didn't know what it was exactly, but it was often hard to puzzle Heath out. Jarrod was the one who was able to read a person's mind. Still, Nick spent more time with Heath than anyone; he ought to be able to figure this out himself. But as the days passed, Heath had offered no clues, and his air of distraction had only become more pronounced. Nick was becoming more frustrated as time passed. He finally decided Heath must be more upset about Sheriff Boggs than he was letting on. And Nick'd had enough.

He stopped his pacing and looked back to where Heath was working. Just like normal. Whatever was wrong, the work never suffered. Nick couldn't fault him for that, but he knew something was upsetting Heath. And when something was wrong, Nick figured it his job was to fix it. Since Heath hadn't brought it up, Nick would. He took a deep breath and strode across the field. This was going to end today.

"What the heck's the matter with you?"

Heath startled up. That right there showed how distracted he was. He rarely reacted to Nick hollering—usually just seemed to expect it. Heath tried to hide his surprise. "Nothing's wrong with me. Why?"

Nick refused to be dissuaded from this self-appointed job. "Yes, there is something wrong. You know it, and I know it, and I want you to tell me what it is!"

"There's nothing wrong, Nick. Just let it go."

"I can't do that, Heath. Something's bothering you. Has been ever since you and Jarrod got back from Corinth. It's that sheriff, isn't it? 'Cause he didn't believe you and put you in jail."

Heath looked back at him a moment. "No, Nick. It's nothing like that. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Nick studied at him a moment and saw no deception in his brother. He watched as Heath turned back to the fence post he was working. If it wasn't that sheriff, then...

Nick reached out tentatively to Heath's shoulder and heard the distress in his own, now quiet, voice. "Is it me? Have I done something?"

Heath blinked in surprise, and his face showed dismay. "No. No, Nick. What makes you say that?"

"Something's wrong, and you won't tell me what it is. It's gotta be me. Or something I've done."

Heath's eyes softened with affection, and Nick knew then it wasn't him and heaved a sigh of relief.

"No, Nick. It's not you."

Nick let out another breath. "Then what is it? I hope you know I want to help if I can."

Heath shook his head. "There's nothing you can do. It's just something I have to figure out."

Nick wrapped his hand behind Heath's neck and gave it a little shake. His voice was soft, "Can't I help you figure it out? That's what big brothers do."

A slow grin grew across Heath's face, and as his brother relaxed, Nick felt relief spread through him. Whatever it was, they could fix it. He continued, "All right, then, that's settled. We're gonna talk about your problem and figure out how to fix it. Now, let's go sit down and square it away."

Heath breathed a laugh, and they headed over and sat under the tree with their canteens.

"Now, what's wrong?"

Heath shrugged. "It's really nothing."

"What's 'really nothing?'" Nick was well used to pulling teeth like this with Heath. Just had to out-stubborn the second most stubborn Barkley in the family.

"Clive Keenan—the man I met in the Corinth jail?"

"What about him?"

Heath shook his head. "He ain't never gonna be out from under the suspicion of robbing those stages. The sheriff's convinced he did it. And even if he never gets arrested and convicted, the suspicion will hang over him from now on unless someone else gets caught for it. Your neighbors suspecting you... That's not an easy thing to live with."

Nick nodded, knowing this was true. "What are you thinking on doing about it?"

Heath glanced away, and Nick knew that Heath was hesitant to bring up his idea. Nick figured he'd just wait him out.

Finally, Heath turned back, "I know we're awfully busy here, and I've been off for a while leaving you with the load." He paused to let Nick interrupt if he was of a mind to, but Nick decided to hold his tongue. "I want to go back to Corinth and see if the sheriff will deputize me and let me see if I can figure this out."

"Are you out of your ever loving mind? Deputize you? That idiot sheriff? You want to work for _him?_ "

One eyebrow raised, Heath turned away. "I knew you wouldn't want me going off, but I didn't think it'd be because of the sheriff."

Nick couldn't believe it. "After the way he treated you? I can't believe you! Be his deputy? Come on, Heath!"

"Nick, I've got the experience. I worked for Frank Sawyer. I can do it."

"I know you can do the job, but he's an idiot! And a bigot! You can't work for him. He locked you up for no reason!"

"Nick, we've been through that. He thought he had reason, and I didn't argue with him that hard. And if he lets me investigate as I need to, then I should be able to work for him."

Nick shook his head in frustration. He hated the thought of that self-righteous imbecile further degrading his brother. It wasn't fair, and it bothered Nick that Heath had to put up with that kind of thing—even if it didn't seem to bother Heath at all. Not fair.

But then Nick looked back at Heath and saw the certainty on his face along with the pleading in his eyes, asking Nick to understand and support him. So Nick swallowed his indignation. That idiot sheriff wasn't worth his time, and Heath deserved to have his brother behind him. That decision made, Nick calmed down considerably.

But that left him with another problem. He studied on it a moment and then looked back over at the brother who appeared to have prematurely accepted that Nick was against his plan.

Nick let a slow grin spread across his face, and as it grew, Heath looked more and more uncertain and suspicious. "All right, Heath. Go talk to the idiot sheriff, convince him to let you be a deputy."

Heath looked skeptical. "Are you sure, Nick? We're awfully busy here."

Nick nodded. "We have really good men working for us. That's why we pay top wages. And I figure Mac can keep things ticking over here while we're gone."

Heath was startled. "We? What are you talking about, 'We?'"

Nick shrugged. "I'm going with you."

"Nick, I appreciate the offer. Really. But I'm not asking you to drop everything. One of us needs to be here. This is my problem."

"Your problem, my problem. What's the difference?" Heath tried to interrupt, but Nick used his loud voice to override him. "And who knows what that idiot might try if one of your brothers isn't around to pull your hide out of it?" Nick stared hard into Heath's eyes to indicate his deep level of commitment. "When are we going?"

One side of Heath's mouth quirked up, and he shook his head in resignation. "Whenever we can arrange things here, Nick. Whenever you're ready."

Nick felt his smile spread from ear to ear, knowing he had won this one.

Later that night at the dinner table, Nick announced to the family that he and Heath were leaving for Corinth the following morning. The startled looks from the family were priceless as they'd all been upset at Heath's treatment by the sheriff. Secretly, Nick enjoyed dropping these surprise announcements on them. Kept everyone on their toes and dancing to his tune. All three of them glanced quickly back and forth between Nick and Heath then started talking at once.

Audra, "But why, Nick?"

Mother, "Do you think that's wise?"

Jarrod, "Why would you want to go back there?"

Nick glanced at Heath and silently indicated that it was his turn to pick up the conversation.

Heath turned to Jarrod. "I'm going back because I don't think Sheriff Boggs will ever clear Clive's name, and I want to see if I can do something about that."

Jarrod considered and then slowly nodded. "How do you propose to go about it?"

Heath didn't even hesitate, and Nick loved that Heath would just walk right into the lion's den. "I'm gonna ask the sheriff to make me a temporary deputy."

All three family members blinked in surprise. Audra found her voice first, "But Heath, that sheriff treated you so badly. Why would you want to work for him?"

Heath shrugged. "I've been a deputy before, and if he'll let me, I can do it again, no matter what he thinks of my background."

There was no immediate answer, and Heath looked around the table, conceding to his family that he understood their confusion. "I know you don't understand about this, but I've lived with this hanging over me my whole life. Before, it was usually because my mother wasn't married. Now, it's that I claim Tom Barkley—one of the most respected men in the state—as my father. You all know it's true, so it's hard for you to understand that anyone might _not_ believe it. Sheriff Boggs might be a closed-minded bigot, but he was standing up for Tom Barkley's memory and reputation. It's hard to take a complete stranger's word against the memories of a lifetime." Heath paused to sum up his case. "It doesn't really matter what _he_ thinks or says about me 'cause when it comes right down to it, the only opinions I care about are right here in this room. And as long as he allows me to investigate the stage robberies, then that's all that counts."

The other three members of the family digested that, then as usual, Jarrod answered for them all. "I guess we can understand _that_ , Heath."

Heath continued, "And I don't think the sheriff's ever going to catch the real thieves because he's convinced that Clive is guilty. I don't think he is, and I don't want him to have to live with the stigma of suspicion for the rest of his life."

Nick watched as the family began to understand and saw the smiles spread around the table. Nick glanced back to Heath who responded with a small grin.

Jarrod interrupted, "And why exactly are you going along, Nicholas?"

Nick shrugged at his family. "You know as well as I do that he'll get in trouble if he goes by himself."

That caused everyone to chuckle except Heath who kicked him under the table. Mother promptly smacked Heath's hand, and they all laughed again. 


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

Heath gave a deep sigh when Corinth came into view. He accepted Sheriff Boggs and his attitudes because it was next to impossible to change a man like that, but it didn't mean he liked it. And he didn't relish the scene about to be played out when he asked the man if he could be a deputy.

He stole a glance over to Nick. It gave him a warm feeling that Nick had noticed he was upset and insisted on helping him fix the problem. And on coming with him. That was above and beyond any expectations or hopes he'd ever had.

As they stopped in front of the sheriff's office, he put a hand out to stop Nick's dismount. He had something to say first. "Nick, when we go in, I do the talking."

Nick's reply was indignant. "What do ya think I'm gonna do? Take over? You're the one here on a crusade. I'm just along to watch your back."

Heath shook his head. "No. He'll say something to make you mad and then you'll start yelling and end up storming out." Nick tried to shrug it off and deny it, but Heath aimed a serious stare at him. Nick finally reluctantly nodded, agreeing to at least _try_ to hold his tongue. Heath let go his arm, and they both dismounted.

Opening the door and stepping in the office, Heath took a deep breath, readying himself to fight the dragon. The sheriff looked up with a welcoming smile till he realized who'd walked in. The change in his expression was dramatic.

"What are you doing back here, boy?"

Heath did not let his expression change. Nick still called him 'boy,' but it was a term of affection now. It showed both of them where they started and how far they'd come. From anyone else, though, 'boy' was ugly and demeaning. And as much as he disliked it, he knew that Nick probably hated it even more. But to his credit, Nick kept his word and held his tongue.

"Sheriff Boggs. This is my brother, Nick. I think you mentioned him when I was here last."

The sheriff glanced to where Nick was standing to Heath's left rear. He smiled a welcome and extended his hand to Nick. Heath didn't turn to look, but he felt Nick shift behind him and fold his arms, effectively refusing to meet the man and demonstrating his support for Heath.

Boggs hesitated at Nick's reaction, eyed Heath briefly. "Well, what can I do for you two?"

Heath looked at the sheriff earnestly. "I came to ask how you're coming on the stage coach robberies."

Sheriff Boggs shook his head. "Keenan is still free, but I'll get the evidence on him. Don't you worry about that."

Heath nodded briefly. "Well, maybe I can help you out, Sheriff."

He showed surprise. "How're you gonna do that, boy?"

"Well, I've got experience as a deputy. Maybe I could work for you and figure out who's been robbing the stage."

Boggs looked alarmed. "I don't think so, boy. I don't be taking just anybody on as deputy."

"Well, like I said, I've got experience. I spent a year working for Frank Sawyer. You wouldn't be taking on a greenhorn here."

The sheriff blinked. "Frank Sawyer? _You_ worked for Frank Sawyer?"

Heath nodded once. "For nearly a year."

Now, he looked skeptical. "Frank Sawyer? _The_ Frank Sawyer? I've met Frank Sawyer, boy, and I don't believe he'd take on a fella like you."

Heath felt Nick's anger ratchet up a notch, but he continued to hold his tongue. "Well, Sheriff, he did take me on, and as I said, I worked for him a good, long time."

The sheriff must have been completely blind to the tension rolling off of Nick, but Heath sure felt it.

"I don't believe you, boy."

Heath shifted slightly to stop Nick from moving against the man. "Sheriff, I've got a letter of introduction here proving what I say."

"Introducing 'Heath whatever-your-name-used-to-be', or 'Heath what-you're-claiming-your-name-is-now?'"

Nick erupted, "Now, you just hold on one cotton picking minute, Boggs! That was uncalled for!"

Heath didn't turn. "Nick."

"Heath, he's—"

"Nick." Just a tad more force.

Nick took a deep breath and swallowed whatever else he planned to say.

Heath looked back to the sheriff. "Wire him if you're concerned. He knows my name."

Boggs glared at him briefly before shrugging minutely which was just as good as agreeing. He studied the two of them then asked, "Why would you want to do this, boy? Ain't you two got enough to do at that big ranch of Tom's?"

The anger pouring off Nick was almost thick enough to cut with a knife, but Heath appreciated that he continued to hold his temper in check. "Well, truth be told, I don't think Mr. Keenan is guilty." The sheriff tried to interrupt, but Heath overrode him. Arguing with Nick all these months had made him good at it. "I know you and your deputy are pretty busy with just town and county business, and the added work of the stage robberies makes everything a lot harder to get done, right?"

The sheriff offered a half shrug, half nod response.

Heath continued, "I could become a deputy, and all I do is work on the robberies. That frees up you and Deputy Dodson to concentrate on your regular duties, and the robberies get the attention they need as well.

"Now, as I said, I don't believe Keenan is involved, but that won't stop me from bringing him in if I find evidence that he is. I'll investigate every avenue from the stage coach company, to the bank, to the folks at the way stations. And I'll look into people in this area who have _anything_ suspicious to indicate they might be involved. I _will_ look at everything, Sheriff. And no matter where the investigation leads, I'll follow it. You ask my brother; he'll tell you how stubborn I can be."

Sheriff Boggs looked at Nick who, if Heath had to guess, was probably glowering in defiance. "So, what's your job while he's running around playing deputy? You gonna hold his hand?"

Heath silently counted ten before he heard Nick's barely controlled answer. "My job is to watch his back. These robbers haven't killed anyone yet, but that don't mean they won't when he corners them. And I don't want him going after these men on his own. So I'll just go along with him to make sure he's covered. Or help in whatever else he may need."

Heath was proud of Nick and the restraint he showed. At this point, Heath decided to present his best argument to persuade Boggs. "Here's one more thing to consider: I'm going to work on this with or without the badge. Being a deputy would make it a sight easier, but I'm gonna do this either way." Once again, the sheriff tried to interrupt, but Heath just kept talking. "Now, you think about this: _When_ —not if— _when_ I solve this, would you prefer that I get all the credit on my own or that the sheriff's office gets the credit?"

The sheriff drew back in surprise as Heath had known he would. Heath watched him consider it for a bit and then noted a change in his attitude. The sheriff then replied, "I ain't got no money to pay an extra deputy."

"Don't need your money. I just want to find the stage robbers, and I'm asking you to help me do it."

The sheriff studied him briefly and then grudgingly nodded. He pulled open a desk drawer and tossed two badges down. "All right. You're both deputies. Try not to embarrass me."

Nick's voice burst out as he surged forward, "Now, you listen here—"

Heath threw up his arm to keep Nick from grabbing Sheriff Boggs by the shirt front, but he aimed his comment toward the sheriff, "Thank you. I'll keep you informed of our progress."

The sheriff looked slightly alarmed at Nick's reaction, but he recovered well enough. "Yeah. See that ya do."

"Do you have any notes on the investigation so far?"

He grudgingly sat down and opened a drawer. He fished around in it briefly and finally pulled out a thin file and tossed it on his desk.

Heath, sensitive to the sheriff's prejudices, eyed the file. "May I take it with me?"

The sheriff nodded with reluctance.

Heath reached down to pick up the file and the badges. He turned to find Nick breathing deep and fast, biting his lip to keep quiet, and aiming a look of intense anger at the sheriff. Heath had received that very same look himself a few times in the early days of their brotherhood, and he quickly forced Nick to turn around before he followed through on his natural instincts. He pushed Nick through the door and considered himself lucky.

Nick shook himself loose. "You should've let me go at him."

Heath offered a small smile. "What would that have helped?"

Nick was at his best—self-righteous, defiant, and no doubt in his mind that he was correct in his beliefs. "It would have made me feel a whole lot better. And it might—just might—have made him think twice before he opened his yap and started spewing that drivel again. He needs his tongue handed to him on a platter, and I think I'm just the man to serve it up."

Heath held his grin. "You're probably right, Nick, but I got what I came for, so let's not take him down just yet, huh?"

As Heath watched, Nick's agitated breathing began to slow and then his thousand dollar smile began to break through. Finally, Nick shook his head in resignation. "Fine. I won't break his neck. So, where do we start, Deputy Barkley?"

Heath grinned at the brother who'd denied his natural instincts just because he'd asked him. "I think we should go see the chief suspect. See if he's figured out anyone else who might be wanting to frame him. I'll look over Sheriff Boggs's notes, see if there's anything more than the bare facts. We'll go out to where the robberies took place, see if there's anything about where they happened that would give us a clue. "

"You're gonna check out the banks and the way stations—the stage line, too?"

"Yeah, eventually, but I'm gonna start here. If we get the local people, they may lead us to people in the companies that're involved."

Nick nodded. "Well, what's in the file?"

Heath opened the folder and glanced through the few pages as Nick looked over his shoulder. "Looks like mostly witness statements. Lists of stolen property. Dates and broad overviews of what happened. That the empty mail bag was found on Keenan's property, and that he was arrested and released."

"Anything sticking out to you as odd?"

"Not really. 'Bout what I expected." He closed the file and headed over to the horses and slid it into his saddlebag. "Let's head out and talk to Mr. Keenan."

Nick looked at him mockingly. " _Mister_ Keenan? I thought he was 'Clive?'"

Heath nodded. "He was. But if I keep an open mind about everything, he has to be a suspect. An unlikely one, but still—technically—a suspect. Until I've talked to him and satisfied my own mind that he isn't involved, he'll be Mr. Keenan."

Looking up at Nick, Heath thought he saw respect and approval and let out an inner sigh of relief. Nick's actions frequently followed instincts and impressions, and Heath was a bit worried his brother would see suspicion of Keenan as disloyalty. But apparently, he supported Heath's decision.

"Well, then, let's get on the road, Deputy Barkley." 


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

Riding out to the Keenan ranch, Nick shook his head in admiration of his brother. Regardless of Heath had said, Nick knew Sheriff Boggs and his bigoted attitudes bothered him. But Heath kept himself completely controlled and never let his anger show. Nick sometimes wished he had that ability, but it has bypassed him completely. He'd told Heath he would control his temper with the sheriff, but even so, he would have happily torn the man apart if Heath hadn't stopped him.

Finally finding the turn to the Keenan ranch, they headed up the drive to where they found a small, neat farmhouse. It was nearing dusk, and Nick expected Keenan would either be there now or on his way. Leaving the horses tied to the corral fence, he followed Heath up to the porch.

Shortly, their knock was answered by a well-built man about his own age who blinked in surprise. "Heath! What a surprise! Come on in."

Nick followed Heath into the cabin and grinned as Heath introduced him.

"It's good to see you. This is my brother, Nick."

Keenan reached forward, and Nick felt a good, strong grip to go with the open smile. First impression—he liked the man.

Keenan invited them to sit and offered supper which Heath declined. Then his brother got right to the point. "The story you told me about the robberies has been weighing on me. That's why I'm here."

"All right."

"Jarrod and I got home, and I just couldn't stop thinking about it. I got so distracted that Nick, here, was about to fire me."

Nick grinned at Heath's kidding, and Keenan smiled in amusement at them both.

Heath continued, "So I came back and asked Sheriff Boggs if I could look into it for him."

Keenan looked surprised. "How?"

"I asked him to deputize me."

Keenan looked confused and appeared to be waiting on the funny part of the joke. He'd be waiting an awful long time. As Heath's silence stretched out, Keenan's expression changed from expectant amusement to bewildered astonishment. "You're not serious?"

Heath nodded. Nick was glad his brother's silent treatment extended to all acquaintances...not just him.

Keenan still didn't believe it. "You'd work for that narrow minded fool?"

"To figure out who robbed those stages? Yeah."

Keenan took a few seconds to note Heath's resolute demeanor and then nodded. "Well. All right. What can I do to help?"

Heath nodded briefly, then started, "An important piece of stolen property was found on your ranch. You understand I have to question you?"

Keenan seemed lost for words. "You know I didn't have anything to do with this, Heath."

Heath looked down briefly as he answered, "But it is a lead, and I have to investigate it." Keenan appeared betrayed, but Heath continued, "Even if you had nothing to do with it, that pouch is still an important clue. How did it get on your property? Who left it there? Was it intentionally planted to frame you, or was it just forgotten or accidentally dropped? If it isn't you, then we need to figure out how it got on your property."

Keenan digested all these questions and then nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry to jump all over you."

Heath grinned forgiveness for the man's suspicions. Just about then, Nick's stomach announced it was ready to eat.

They all laughed, and Keenan grinned at Heath. "Well, if you're gonna ask all these questions, any reason you can't ask and eat at the same time? I'm hungry too, and I've got a ranch that don't run itself."

Nick looked at Heath and bounced his brows with ironic significance. Here was a man after his own heart.

Heath glanced back at him and shrugged in resignation. "Well, I guess we're having supper with you after all."

In short order, they were seated with large bowls of a hearty and tasty stew, and Heath and Keenan were going back and forth over where Keenan had been during each of the robberies. Finally, they moved on to where the mail pouch had been found, and Nick learned that the sheriff had found a crudely written, anonymous note three days after the last robbery that the mail pouch was in a certain area of the Keenan ranch. Nick looked at Heath as he searched through the thin file the sheriff had given him. Not finding it, Heath looked at Nick and Keenan and shook his head. "Maybe it was misfiled."

Nick shook his head in disgust. Considering the sheriff, it could have been lost, misfiled, or conveniently forgotten. Whichever, Nick knew Heath would be following up with Boggs.

Heath then asked about the two lawsuits Keenan had mentioned as possible sources for a frame-up that Nick now felt was responsible for the 'evidence' against Clive. He led him through an explanation of the origins of the legal actions, and Nick got the details of the mining suit against Boris Vardosky and the apple harvest issue against Tivis Giles. Both situations were problematic legally, but Clive seemed philosophical about the impending court dates and their outcomes. He wasn't certain he was right, hadn't consulted a lawyer before filing his suits, and didn't seem to be overly upset about the prospect of losing. He just wanted an answer one way or the other so that if reparations were due him, then he could collect. His whole attitude seemed strange to Nick, but he could recognize that both Jarrod and Heath might respond in a similar manner. He shook his head minutely; the same couldn't be said for him or probably Gene either—they both tended to take perceived slights a bit more personally.

As they stood up after the long dinner, Clive apologized for his initial anger at Heath for the interrogation. Heath shrugged it off and shook Clive's hand. "We'll keep you informed on our progress."

Clive seemed relieved. "I was hoping you would. Call on me any time if I can help—no matter what you need, I'll do my best." Heath nodded as Clive reached toward Nick. "Nice meeting you, too, Nick. Did you come along to keep him out of Sheriff Boggs's jail?"

Catching Clive's teasing mood, Nick shook his head regretfully. "The boy couldn't take care of himself if he tried."

As expected, Heath shoved him, and Nick grinned along with Clive. Then Nick admitted, "Truthfully, Heath'll probably be the one keeping me out of the jug 'cause he'll stop me from throttling that idiot when he starts shooting his mouth off." That drew rueful laughs from all of them as Nick and Heath said goodbye and headed out to mount up.

Heading out the gate into the night, Nick looked over at his brother. "So, what are we starting with tomorrow?" 


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

Early the next morning Heath and Nick dismounted in front of the small cabin that sat near the opening to Boris Vardosky's mine. Looking around the neat claim, the brothers glanced at each other and walked up to the front door. Heath knocked and, after an appropriate amount of time, he knocked again. When that produced no answer, he looked back at Nick leaning against the porch post. Nick shrugged. "Go on in; you're deputized."

Heath thought about that. "Jarrod probably wouldn't see it that way." He lifted the door latch. "Mr. Vardosky? Deputy Barkley here. Can I talk to you?" He took a quick glance around the one room cabin and found no one.

He and Nick looked around the site and zeroed in on the mine opening. They ambled over to the mine, and Heath leaned over to look in the cave and called out, "Mr. Vardosky?"

After a few seconds, they heard a faint reply. The two of them turned and went back to sit on the front porch of the small house. Heath listened as Nick started yakking about some ideas he had for the ranch, and he popped in with comments whenever he thought one was needed. The ideas were all things Nick was considering for the next couple of years. Heath knew it would take a long time and a lot more discussion before any actions were taken, so he didn't get too involved in the conversation. He spent the time looking around the area.

Vardosky had been here a while and was making a decent living. He had a small, neat cabin and shed with an attached corral that presently held one old horse. This was a simple man with simple needs.

After about twenty minutes, a dusty, stooped man ambled out of the mine pulling a small donkey loaded down with equipment. That explained the horse in the corral—riding that donkey would have made for an uncomfortable seat. Heath and Nick waved as the man looked at them with suspicious curiosity. Heath made sure his badge was prominently displayed as he and Nick headed over.

"Mr. Vardosky? I'm Deputy Heath Barkley from Corinth. I'm working with Sheriff Boggs."

"What business you have with me?" The man's thick accent suggested a Russian or eastern European background.

"Well, I'm investigating the stagecoach robberies."

"I know nothing about that. Now leave."

"Mr. Vardosky, I need to ask you some questions. We can do this here or go into town to the sheriff's office."

Nick assumed his crossed arm, enforcer stance, and Vardosky glanced at them both in annoyance. "Fine! Ask questions."

Nick and Heath moved to the side as Vardosky started unloading the pieces of rock from his donkey. "Mr. Vardosky, you've heard about the stage robberies in the area?"

"Yes, but I work."

"Had you heard that the sheriff arrested Clive Keenan for the robberies?"

"Yes."

"Do you know why Mr. Keenan was arrested?"

"Mail bag on ranch."

"That's right. Do you know how that bag got on his property?"

Vardosky paused in his unloading and looked at Heath briefly. "'Cause someone put it there?"

Heath and Nick grinned at each other at the man's sarcasm and bluntness. Then Heath got serious, "Did you put it there, Mr. Vardosky?"

He stopped completely and stared at Heath with alarm. "No. I did not. Who say I do this?"

Heath sidestepped his question. "You can see how you might come under suspicion. Keenan moves in, files a lawsuit against you, and then gets arrested when a key piece of evidence shows up on his property—which is just over this ridge, right?"

Vardosky breathed heavily to control his temper. "I not do this! I not put mail on his property. I am man of honor."

Heath took that in. "But you can understand; you've got motive and opportunity."

"Did Keenan say I do this? If so, he is wrong! He try to jump my claim, but I am honorable. I work hard here for many years, and he think he can just move in and take part of my work? No! I fight him—face to face or in front of judge." Vardosky paused and humphed his dissatisfaction. "He pick in front of judge, so out of my hands. Would like to just hit him till he change mind, but judge will decide who is right instead. But I don't try sneaky trick to get rid of him. I work hard. I don't have time to play dirty trick!"

Heath glanced over at Nick who had relaxed back into his normal stance. Nick nodded. Heath then asked Vardosky where he was on each robbery date. Each answer was a uniform, "Here!"

Heath looked over at Nick. "You got any questions for Mr. Vardosky, Nick?"

Nick shook his head, and they said their goodbyes. As they rode off, Heath looked back and saw Vardosky moving back into his mine.

As they headed back toward town, Heath kept his own council—mostly just to annoy Nick. His brother was getting antsy in the continued silence. Finally, Nick couldn't take it any longer. "Well, he didn't do it."

Heath played dumb. "You don't think so?"

Nick glanced back at him with alarm. "No. You do?"

Heath grinned. "Didn't say that. What makes you think he's clear?"

Nick paused as he eyed Heath suspiciously. "He's a straight forward fellow. Hard worker, wants to be left alone to get on with his business. I don't think there's a deceitful bone in his body."

Heath chewed on that for a bit. "Well, he might have one." Then he put his heel to Charger's flank and pulled ahead of Nick.

As Nick sputtered and fumed and tried to catch up, Heath grinned. He doubted that Nick realized the similarities between himself and Vardosky. Simple men with simple outlooks on life who wanted to do their work and not be interfered with.

"What do you mean, 'He might have one?'"

"I mean, he might have one deceitful bone."

"What are you talking about? He's a straight arrow. He's not misleading you or me or anybody."

Heath fought his grin and kept his eyes focused straight ahead. Nothing irritated Nick quicker than silence. Heath figured it helped keep him on his toes.

"Are you listening to me? He's not trying to hide anything." Nick waited for a response—in vain—and then continued, "This is like talking to a rock. Would you just answer me for once?"

"We'll see."

"What do you mean, 'We'll see?'"

"We'll check."

"On what?"

Heath hid his smile, listening to Nick protest and cajole in his demands for a response. Heath had said all he intended to say.

Soon they were back in town, and Nick followed Heath around as they proceeded to check Heath's suspicions. They stopped at the general store, the hardware store, the restaurant, the saloon, and finally at the assayer's office. Nick remained in the background as Heath asked questions. When they left their last stop, Heath glanced over at Nick. "Well?"

Nick looked at Heath with resignation. "I see what you're saying. He is hiding something. But can you blame him?"

Heath smiled at the concession and shook his head. "Nope. I completely understand. Might even do it myself in his place."

Nick nodded. "The man could lose part of the profits of his claim. Whatever he gets out prior to the judge's decision might not be subject to the settlement. That's why you're asking about how often he's been in town lately and how much ore he's been bringing in, right?"

Heath agreed. "Can't blame a man for not wanting to share his hard work. He's spending less time in town because he's working morning to night every day. Fewer visits for day to day supplies, but more visits to the blacksmith to sharpen his picks. Bought more tools, but less time in the saloon evenings and weekends."

"Pretty smart figuring, little brother. But that still don't mean he had anything to do with putting that pouch on Clive's property."

"No, it don't. I doubt he had anything to do with it. Other than this, I'm sure you're right about him; he's not the type to try to frame anyone. Besides, he's been too busy to get up to any mischief like that."

"That's the truth. That's an impressive amount of ore this last month or so."

"Yep. He's been working hard since this lawsuit got started."

They headed back to the Taylor Boarding House where they were staying during their time in Corinth. Their hostess was a widow with two young children, and she indicated they would be the only guests at dinner that night as her other two boarders would not be joining them.

"Mr. Wilhoit is having dinner with Mrs. Kaye. I think they might make a nice couple."

Heath figured that the young widow might be able to share some local gossip and encouraged her to continue. Nick, naturally gregarious, was clearly listening as he pretended to growl and reached to tickle the four year old boy hiding in his mother's skirts. Occasional shrieks of delight were emitted when Nick's questing fingers found ticklish ribs.

Heath followed up, "Has Mr. Wilhoit been alone very long?"

"He's been living here since I opened this place nearly three years ago. His wife died a few months before that, and he got lonely out there on his ranch by himself."

"Did he sell it?"

"No, he leased it to a neighbor who uses it for grazing. Gives him a small income to pay taxes, keep up the buildings, and allows him to be retired here in town. Mrs. Kaye's husband died about a year ago. Her sons are old enough to keep her place going. She's still quite attractive, so I think they might make a good match."

Nick piped up, "You've been alone for a while. I would have thought some fellow would have come along to pay court."

Mrs. Taylor considered, "I've had gentlemen come to call, but, so far, no one's been able to hold a candle to my Chris."

Heath joined back in, glad that Nick's question opened this topic. "What about Clive Keenan? We met him a few weeks ago, and he seems a good sort."

Mrs. Taylor offered a knowing grin. "Well, Mr. Keenan has cast his eyes in another direction, I think."

Nick jumped up. "Surely, there's no one around to compete with you."

She shook her head wryly at Nick's halfhearted flirting. "Mr. Barkley, behave yourself. As it happens, Mr. Keenan courted a friend of mine, Bessie Giles."

"'Courted,' as in past tense?"

Missus Taylor shook her head regretfully. "There's a squabble over property between her father and Clive. There's so much bad feeling from her father that Bessie broke it off. It's really too bad. They seemed to get on so well together. I know Bessie sure had high hopes that something might come of it, but I guess that won't happen now."

Filing that away, Heath moved on, "What about your other boarder? Where's Mr. Morris tonight?"

"Oh, he comes and goes. Never know when he'll be here and when he won't. It's something to do with his work. He tried to explain it to me, but financial matters go right over my head. He's involved in land speculation, I think. He travels a lot and uses Corinth as a home base."

"Way out here?"

She shrugged, "I asked the same, and he said that the first gold strike was out in the middle of nowhere, too. Whatever his company is looking for, it doesn't insist that a big town be nearby. And I hope, maybe if he finds whatever he's looking for, that it will help our town grow."

Heath conceded, "Good point," and resolved that Mr. Morris's job might warrant further study. "Mean time, him being gone means more food for you, Nick." 


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

After a hearty breakfast the following day, Nick and Heath headed toward the Giles Ranch. Coming over the last rise, they found a neat collection of buildings with tight, solid fences clear of clutter and unnecessary equipment. They tied off their horses and moved toward the door of the house, hearing a high, clear voice singing, _Kathleen Malvoreen_. They both paused to appreciate the sweet, sad song flowing out the open windows. At the end of the verse, Heath knocked on the door, Nick standing behind his right shoulder.

The singing stopped abruptly. "Coming." Half a minute passed then, "Just a second." Finally, the door was opened by a pretty woman about twenty-five years old who had flour dusting her forehead. "Well, hello there. Can I help you?"

Heath now understood Clive's attraction to the perky woman. She was a vision. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am. I'm Deputy Heath Barkley from the Corinth Sheriff's Office, and this is my brother, Nick."

"Well, howdy, Deputy Heath and Brother Nick. Welcome to the Giles Ranch. I'm Bessie."

Heath felt a grin split his face at her inadvertent use of the affectionate term Jarrod frequently used. This lady was a fire cracker. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Giles. We're investigating the stage robberies in the area."

She blinked in surprise. "Well, I can't imagine what led you to our doorstep or what we could possibly tell you about stage coach robberies, but would you like to come in?"

They nodded and followed her into the neat main room. She led them to the table and offered coffee. "Made fresh this morning."

Nick and Heath both agreed to a cup. She soon returned with a tray holding a large pot and three cups and saucers. After pouring, she served them both and sat down. "Now, what can I tell you about stage coach robberies, Deputy Heath and Brother Nick?"

Heath bit down on his smile. He had to get serious. Nick was clearly amused, too. "You've heard about the robberies then?"

She dropped her off hand manner and nodded. "Everybody has. I know they've only gone after stage coaches so far, but that doesn't mean they couldn't eventually go after supply wagons. I've really pushed my father and brother to watch themselves and be careful when they're on the roads."

Trying to delicately approach the subject, Heath chose his words carefully. "You've heard the sheriff arrested someone for the robberies."

"But he's innocent. The sheriff let him go."

Heath nodded. "That doesn't mean he's innocent."

"Of course, it does. He wouldn't let him go if he was guilty"

"He had a good lawyer who pointed out the sheriff didn't have enough evidence to hold him. Mr. Keenan remains the sheriff's only suspect."

Bessie swallowed hard, and alarm began to creep into her eyes. Then she shook it off. "That's ridiculous. I know he's innocent. There's no way Cli— There's no way Mr. Keenan could have been involved."

"How can you be so sure, ma'am?"

"I know him. He's a good man. It's just not possible."

Heath paused to assess her growing distress. "Could you provide him with an alibi? I understand he was alone during each of the robberies."

Bessie stood abruptly and strode over to the open window. From outside, Heath thought he heard the approach of a wagon. "No, I don't have an alibi for him, but I _know_ he's innocent."

"And you're certain of this because..."

Her voice rose in distress, "I told you. I've met him and talked to him! He's a good man, and I know he wouldn't be involved in anything like this!"

From outside came a high-pitched call, "Bessie! Bessie! What's wrong?"

In response, her shoulders dropped, and she shook her head and muttered, "Oh, no."

The door burst open, and a short, younger man came rushing in. "Bessie! Are you all right?"

Nick and Heath stood to greet the agitated newcomer as Bessie moved over to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders to calm him. "I'm fine, Billy."

"But I heard you! You're upset! I heard you."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just got caught up. I didn't mean it."

He nodded as he looked her over. Finally satisfied, he glanced at Nick and Heath. "Who are they? Did they make you sad?"

Bessie, who stood half a head taller than the young man, turned him toward Nick and Heath as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Billy, this is Deputy Barkley and his brother. They work for Sheriff Boggs."

"Did you make my sister cry?"

As Heath considered the accusation, he took in the young man. There was something not quite right about him. He appeared to be in his early twenties with a squat trunk and short, thick limbs. His eyes were wide spaced and almond shaped. His speech and voice seemed off, somehow. "I didn't mean to upset her. My apologies, Miss Giles."

"I don't like people who make Bessie cry!" His voice remained loud and distressed as an older man came in the open door.

Bessie reassured him, "Billy, I'm fine. Now, calm down. Dad, this is Deputy Heath Barkley and his brother, Nick. They're checking into the stage robberies." She paused. "Gentlemen, this is my father, Tivis Giles, and my brother, Billy."

Heath, followed by Nick, shook hands first with Mr. Giles and then with Billy. Sizing Billy up, Heath figured that he was a little slow as Clive had said.

Mr. Giles noticed the tension in his son then turned to Nick and Heath. "What can we do for you, Deputy? You're new around here. Bert hasn't left, has he?"

"No, he's still here. The sheriff and Bert are pretty busy and didn't have time to work on the robberies. That's all me and Nick are doing."

"Oh. Well, all right. What can we help you with?"

"Well, you know Clive Keenan is a suspect."

Billy piped up, "Clive is bad! He's mean! He made Bessie cry!"

The tension in the room cranked up a notch as Bessie and her father immediately became uncomfortable. They both refused to meet anyone's eyes. Bessie finally answered, "Billy, Mr. Keenan did not make me cry."

"Yes, he did, Bessie. I heard you in your bed that night after you sent him away."

Mr. Giles looked in surprise at Bessie, and she glanced at him before going back to her brother. "I was upset, but that wasn't because of anything Clive did."

"He made you cry!"

"No—"

"He did. And he's fighting with Pop over the apples, and he needs to go to jail! That's why I—" Billy abruptly shut up.

Heath jumped in, "That's why you what, Billy?"

Billy quickly shook his head but refused to meet anyone's eyes.

Heath pressed, "Billy, did you do something to send Clive to jail?"

Billy bit his lips then shook his head vigorously. Bessie turned him towards her, leaning down to look him in the eye. "Billy, I know you're not being truthful. What did you do?"

"Bessie, he hurt you."

"No, he didn't. Don't ignore the question. What did you do? Did you put that mail pouch on Clive's property?"

Billy's breathing became rapid as he fought the trap, but with one final glance at his father who was gazing intently at his son, he looked back at his sister and nodded.

Bessie shut her eyes in denial. Mr. Giles dropped his head. "Oh, Billy."

Heath glanced at Nick who looked both triumphant over Clive's innocence and discomfitted over the family's distress. After a bit, Heath decided to take charge. "All right. I know everybody's upset, but we need to clear things up. How about we all sit down?"

Everyone moved to the table with Billy seated between his sister and father. Glancing at Nick who nodded his encouragement, Heath began, "All right. Billy, you put the mail bag on Mr. Keenan's property so he would go to jail for hurting your sister?"

Billy looked mournfully at Bessie and then nodded.

"Where did you get the pouch?"

"I was fishing in Mossy Creek, and I heard some men ride past me on the road that runs beside it. Nobody lives out there, so I went to see where they was going. I walked a long way before I found them, and they was leaving when I come up. They was gone before I could see, but I found that bag. I saw the mail and figured I'd take it to Mr. Parsons, so he could deliver it. But it was late when I got home. And that night Clive made Bessie cry, so I forgot the next day. Then I heard about the robberies again, and the mail pouch was part of it.

"Then I knew them men I saw was the robbers, and I was scared they might have seen me and would try to kill me. So I went to throw it away. I was going by Clive's, and I was still mad at him for Bessie. I wanted him to go to jail for making her cry and fighting with Pop over the apples. I thought if the sheriff found the bag on his ranch, the sheriff would think he was a robber and put him in jail."

Heath asked, "Where did you put the bag on Mr. Keenan's property?"

"Just over the fence on the Tyson Corners Road."

"Did you deliver a note about it to the sheriff?"

He hesitated as if he hated to answer, then spoke in a very quiet voice. "Yes."

That fit with what they knew. Heath glanced at Nick who nodded his agreement. "Did you see any of the thieves up close? Close enough to recognize them?"

Billy glanced at his family then shook his head regretfully.

"And they didn't see you?"

Billy shrugged. "Since they haven't come to kill me, I guess not."

"That's a good point." Heath couldn't help smiling at the simple logic of that answer. He paused, feeling for the family in this difficult situation. "All right, this is good enough for me, but the sheriff needs to hear this, and Mr. Keenan needs to be cleared. Mr. Giles, I know you're busy; when do you think you could come into town with Billy and speak with the sheriff? Sooner would be better than later."

Looking at his daughter, Giles replied, "We have a lot to discuss. Late this afternoon—say around four?"

Heath nodded. "I'll notify the sheriff. I'll also stop and let Mr. Keenan know these developments. It'll be a relief to him, and it wouldn't surprise me if he's not there this afternoon as well."

Giles looked resigned, Billy looked stricken, and Bessie looked...Well, Heath couldn't put a name on her face. Fear, resignation, sadness, pain.

Wanting to leave this family some privacy, he glanced at Nick to signal their departure, and they moved toward the door. Bidding goodbye, Heath reflected how much change they had wrought in the time they had been there. He briefly wondered when Bessie would be singing that song again.

Glancing at Nick as they rode toward the gate, he found his brother looking at him with an odd face. Almost pride, maybe. "What?"

"You did good back there."

Heath thought about it. "I guess."

"No, really. You did."

"Made a big mess for that family. Caused them a lot of pain. I feel bad for them."

"But the truth is out. Clive is cleared. Truth is never bad."

"But the consequences of people finding out that truth, that's not always good."

"Well, speaking from experience, finding out the truth from an old secret made my life better."

Heath gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, but you have to admit we all went through some tough times when that secret first came out—maybe you most of all."

Nick nodded easily to concede the point but persisted in his argument. "True, but that tough start led to rewards I never imagined. Knowing what you know now, having what we have now, you telling me you wish the secret was still secret?"

Heath shook his head. "No. Being a brother and son is the best thing that's ever happened to me. But I wish getting it would have been a whole lot less difficult. I hate all the pain and embarrassment it caused the family and how people changed their opinion of Tom Barkley because of me. I wish there had been some other way for the truth to come out. Can't fault me for regretting how much pain I brought everybody."

"I reckon not. But speaking for myself, and I'm sure the rest of the family would agree, we'd go through it all again—and more—to make you one of us. Your arrival only made our family richer and stronger. And I got a partner in the bargain."

Heath felt a little glow inside, but he tried not to let Nick know how much he appreciated the words and the acceptance they signaled. That wasn't how the two of them worked, and he wanted to get back to more solid footing and away from this vulnerable area. But Nick's admission was serious and deserved a response. Something short and simple. He settled for a glance, a smile, a nod of acknowledgement. "Me, too."

Nick gave a nod as well, and the subject was closed.

Heading into the ranch yard around Clive's house, it quickly became clear that he wasn't around. Heath took out his small notebook and wrote a note asking Clive to come to the sheriff's office at four that afternoon and stuck it on a nail poking out from the front door for just that purpose. Then they headed into town to notify Sheriff Boggs of the developments and begin checking area maps to find out about the Mossy Creek Road. Heath had no plans for giving up the investigation just because he had cleared Clive and restored his good name.

Checking in with the sheriff, Heath felt Nick's overprotective tension rise as they went into the office. For that matter, the sheriff's tension level rose too. Heath was used to dealing with that, but he resolved to act as if there was no problem. Usually helped folks to see there really wasn't any difference between him and anyone who wasn't born out of wedlock. And it would help to keep Nick calm if Heath remained unruffled.

Reporting the morning's events left the sheriff a bit flabbergasted. And skeptical. Heath made sure to stay between Nick and the sheriff, and then told him about the appointment that afternoon. That seemed to mollify him. He looked reassured that he would be able to confirm this new information independently with Giles and Billy.

The sheriff retrieved the county maps Heath requested and even assisted in providing information on the area around the Mossy Creek Road. Heath resolved that he and Nick would head out there the following day.

Around a quarter to four, Clive opened the door to the office. He looked uncomfortable as he acknowledged the sheriff and Bert who had arrived in the interim. He shook hands with Nick and Heath. Greetings had just been completed when the entire Giles family entered. Mr. Giles greeted each of them. When he reached Clive, he shook hands and murmured an apology. Billy refused to meet anyone's glance, and Bessie only had eyes for Clive who, after speaking with Mr. Giles, reciprocated her attentions.

Billy and his father presented themselves in front of the sheriff's desk. With prompting, Billy haltingly confessed to finding the mail pouch, planting it on Clive's property, and leaving the sheriff a note about it.

After hearing the whole story, the sheriff answered, "Well, this clears Keenan of any suspicion. All charges against him will be dropped. Billy, you understand what you did was wrong?"

Billy nodded. He'd apparently had a good talking to from his father and sister.

Tivis Giles looked around at all the people in the room. "I really feel like this whole thing is my fault. It all goes back to this issue of the apple orchard and the misunderstanding over who has a right to those apples. That lawsuit has caused all these problems.

"I didn't realize my stubbornness had broken my daughter's heart, but it did. That led to my son lying and framing an innocent man. I've already apologized to my daughter and son, and now, I do so to Mr. Keenan. And to prove myself, I want to notify him in front of everyone that I will concede the orchard as part of my apology. That if he and my daughter wish to renew their acquaintance, I have no problem with that. And that I will try to be a better neighbor to him than I have been so far."

Clive and Bessie both looked thunderstruck, and their eyes sought each other out. Tremulous smiles appeared on both faces. Clive stepped forward to stand beside Mr. Giles. "I think I may have a better solution. Sir, I formally ask permission to marry your daughter."

Heath felt a grin split his face and saw the same on Nick. Bessie started crying. Clive, Giles, and Billy all looked at Bessie and then each other in utter helplessness. Giles looked back at Clive. "Son, by all means, marry her and make her happy."

Clive's eyes got shiny in agreement. "And since we'll be family, that orchard will be a family concern, sir. We'll share the work and the proceeds."

Giles added his smile to the rest in the room. "Son, that'll be just fine. That sounds like a terrific plan to me." He turned to his daughter. "Bessie, get over here and make this official."

She rushed over and hugged her father then turned to grasp Clive's hands. He dropped to one knee, "Elizabeth Giles, I've come to care for you more than I thought possible. The time away from you has shown me that I don't want to live without you any longer. I would be most honored if you would consent to be my wife. Bessie, will you marry me?"

The tears were streaming down her face. "Oh yes! Yes, yes, _yes_!"

He rose as she threw herself into his arms. All around them clapping broke out along with handshakes, back slaps, and calls of, "Congratulations!" Even the sheriff appeared pleased for the happy couple despite losing his prime suspect.

Heath felt Nick's hand on his shoulder. He turned to find one of Nick's killer smiles. "See? I told you finding out the truth is always better. Worked out for the best here, didn't it?"

Heath returned the grin. "You were right, Nick," he affirmed, knowing that's what Nick really wanted to hear.

Nick laughed and wrapped his arm around Heath's neck in a half hug. "That's right! You remember that. I'm always right!"

Heath chuffed a laugh, "Yes, Nick. You're always right."


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

Early the next morning, Nick and Heath rode out the Mossy Creek Road. Comparing the sheriff's reports on the timing of the last robbery and Billy's information on finding the bag gave them some ideas for the location of the hideout. They also looked at the reports from the other robberies and tried to map out escape routes to areas along the far reaches of the Mossy Creek Road.

Watching as his brother had taken charge of these discussions, Nick couldn't help but glow with pride. Heath quietly and confidently steered the conversations to generate the most opinions. Looking at Deputy Dodson, he saw his brother's stock rise in the young man with each new idea and discovery. Even the sheriff—occasionally—appeared to be surprised by Heath's concise and insightful questions, suggestions, and conclusions. Of course, Nick wasn't surprised by anything Heath did. His vast variety of life experience prior to his arrival at the Barkley ranch made Heath an expert in many things—a real jack of all trades. But seeing increasing respect for Heath in Bert's eyes and surprise in the sheriff's was gratifying for Nick.

Riding beside Heath out the Mossy Creek Road, Nick admitted that pride to himself but resolved not to mention it to Heath. They didn't usually talk about that kind of thing, and it would just embarrass Heath if he brought it up. But Nick knew Heath would probably already know how he felt anyway. Despite only being _officially_ brothers for a little more than a year, they both often understood each other's feelings without discussion. And this was something Heath would know without talking about, just as Nick knew Heath appreciated it and didn't want to discuss it.

They visited several areas identified as possible hideouts, but none of them showed any proof of recent habitation. Spending the entire day on what turned out to be a fruitless search left Nick feeling frustrated. After all the progress and good news the previous day, he was hoping for a quick resolution of the case. But Heath did not appear at all upset. As they turned toward town, Nick decided to see if he was just faking it.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"I figured we'd get somewhere today."

"We got to a lot of somewheres today. Just not the right somewhere."

"And you're not discouraged?"

"No."

"No? We've wasted the whole day riding around looking at scrub."

"We've ruled out fourteen possible hideouts. That's not a wasted day. These things don't happen overnight all the time, Nick. You gotta be patient and work at it. Just like gentling a colt. You're not gonna get it done in one day."

Nick let out a sigh of acceptance. He understood that kind of patience, but he didn't have to like it. Yet another way he envied both Jarrod and Heath—their inborn patience. "Well, how long are we gonna keep riding around out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Heath grinned. Nick knew his impatience kept his brother amused, and since it was his natural tendency anyway, he didn't see any reason to hold back. It always made him feel better to vent his frustrations, and it made his brother laugh: a win-win situation in Nick's view.

Heath replied, "We could just keep going for a few days. You want to?"

"I think you know pretty well I'm tired of this. Now, would you quit fooling around and tell me what we're gonna be doing tomorrow?"

Heath grinned again. Nice that Nick could keep his spirits up. "Well, I hadn't told you this, but before we left the ranch, I enlisted older brother in our work. He's been checking with the stage company and the bank to find out who would have knowledge of the shipments. Every time that the stage has been hit, they've been transporting gold. My thinking is that this is all starting at the bank because stages carrying other valuable cargo haven't been hit. But you can't be too careful. Gotta check 'em all out. And Jarrod's been working on that for me."

Nick's eyebrows bounced up in approval of Heath's planning. He wasn't working off the cuff and just reacting to developments. Of course, he'd planned all along to solve the robberies. Whether he cleared Clive before or after identifying the robbers was not part of the equation; the primary goal would be accomplished with the arrest of the guilty parties. Sneaky that he had Jarrod working on it without telling Nick, but that was typical of both brothers. Neither of them felt the need to share the full picture with Nick all the time, and both were long range planners.

Nick, on the other hand, usually only enjoyed that kind of preparation when it came to the ranch. He tended to be more of a reactor, in general, unless it was something he wanted. Which wasn't always a bad thing. It meant his feelings were usually genuine and true. And those genuine feelings often generated interesting reactions from other people. You could learn a lot from those reactions, and that was something Jarrod and Heath rarely got. That was Nick's job. It made them a good team.

But he was still impressed that Jarrod and Heath had planned ahead. No need to mention that, though. Why give Heath the big head? Besides, he probably already knew it anyway. "So, have you heard anything from older brother yet?"

"No, but I think maybe we should ride home and update the family on the developments and see how far he's gotten."

"Sounds like a good idea to me. Mrs. Taylor sets a good table, but I'm missing Silas's cooking."


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11

Arriving at the ranch the following afternoon resulted in a joyous reunion. After greetings and hugs, Nick and Heath went to check in with Mac and find out if there had been any problems. He essentially told them to get out of his hair and let him do his job.

Gathering in the parlor that evening, they greeted the recently arrived Jarrod who expressed surprise and delight at their return. Resolving to put aside the discussions of the stage line and bank employees until after dinner, they all headed in to partake of Silas's offerings. To Nick's delight, they had Chicken Creole. To Heath's delight, dessert was several varieties of fruit with whipped cream. He still preferred simple flavors to the more complex dishes that Silas was capable of. Discussion that night concerned local events and news around the ranch. Audra updated them on town gossip, and Victoria reported on news she'd recently received from Gene in the form of letters home.

They all wanted an update on what was happening in Corinth with Clive and the sheriff. Nick had planned to let Heath take the lead as most of the developments were the result of his work, but his brother silently indicated for Nick to go ahead.

So Nick began describing the recent events. He told them of the sheriff's continued disdain toward Heath. The rest of the family, especially Jarrod, bristled at the revelation, but Heath just shrugged. Then he reported Clive's proven innocence and his pending marriage to Bessie Giles.

The whole family expressed their surprise and happiness at these developments, and they congratulated Nick and Heath on the results of their hard work. Nick deflected it all back to Heath, but he just shrugged again and said that anyone who actually tried to figure it out could have produced the same results. Nick pointed out that the sheriff and Bert hadn't done so. Heath replied that the sheriff had already made up his mind about Clive and that Bert had to do what he was told regardless of any doubts he had. Nick and Jarrod both conceded the point, and Nick privately admitted to himself that Bert also did not have the self-confidence to stand up to Boggs that his brother did.

At the conclusion of dessert, the boys bid the ladies good night and retired to the study to discuss Jarrod's findings.

"Well, Heath, I've got to say, so far I don't have anything solid, but I think your reasoning is sound. Incidentally, Nick, guess who works for the Brichard Bank?"

"Who?"

"Edwin Ambrosi."

"Really? Well, that's fine! How is he?"

"Well, I haven't spoken to him. Heath advised me not to approach anyone but Mr. Brichard himself to ensure that we don't alert anyone involved in the conspiracy. But Mr. Brichard told me that Edwin is doing well, and they plan on promoting him."

Heath interrupted, "Who is he?"

"Sorry, Heath. Edwin grew up here in Stockton, and Nick and I went to school with him early on. His family moved to San Jose when we were about thirteen or so. But when we were young, he and I did most everything together. I usually had a tag-along brother or sister with me, but he never minded since he was an only child and enjoyed them." He paused a moment, "He was...a really good friend." Another pause as he seemed to remember something. "Then I met up with him again a couple years later at Berkley. He tutored me in mathematics. He was always very good with numbers even when we were young."

Nick piped up, "Ed never was good at physical stuff. Absolutely terrible with animals and couldn't catch or throw a ball to save his life. Got some teasing about that, but not too bad because he was better than our teacher at explaining fractions and square roots. I think he made it possible for the whole school to pass the test on square roots. Sure did miss him when they moved away. What was that math I had such trouble with, Jarrod?"

"Algebra."

"Yeah, algebra. I just kept wishing Ed was around to explain it to me. Jarrod wasn't any good at it."

Heath looked confused. "I've never even heard of that algae...stuff."

Nick replied, "Algebra. Don't worry about it. I never had no use for it. Complete waste of time as far as I'm concerned."

Jarrod came back into the conversation, "Anyway, I was glad to see that Edwin had landed such a good position and that Mr. Brichard thinks so highly of him. I lost track of him when I went east for the war. And banking seems like a perfect position for him. I'm going to be glad when this is over so we can get together again. I owe him a lot." A small smile graced his face as his eyes turned in on its own memories.

"So, what have you found out, Jarrod?"

Jarrod grinned at Heath's redirection of the conversation back to the investigation. "Well, nothing firm yet, Heath. Mr. Brichard gave me a list of people who were aware of or involved in the gold shipments. Everyone from management down to the men who loaded the gold and transported it to the stage office. The stage line is headed by Lawrence O'Meara. He also furnished me with a list. Again, it includes all the people in management, the warehouses, loaders, and the teamsters. But I doubt it's one of them. First of all, it's been different teamsters on each run. Second, they weren't notified of their cargo till they showed up for work. And third, why would they want to put themselves at risk personally when they get robbed? And management tells me that the way stations weren't notified of the cargo."

"But you do have a list of them?"

"The way station managers? Yes, I think so." Jarrod took a break to look through the pages scattered on his desk. He pulled out one. "Here it is. Why?"

"Well, once the stage makes a stop, if someone tells another person at the station, they could send a telegram or ride on ahead and allow the gang to get ready for it. They could indicate both cargo and route."

Jarrod's eyebrows rose up in enlightenment. "Good point, Heath. I hadn't considered that." Jarrod glanced over at Nick who smiled his approval. Jarrod was seeing Heath's investigational skills in action for the first time, but by now, Nick pretty much expected it.

"So, what's the plan now, Heath?" Nick asked.

Heath pondered that for a moment and walked over to Jarrod's desk. He took the lists of suspects and looked down at the names. "Well, I think I'll head back to Corinth and see if we can make any connection between anyone on these lists to Corinth. Then we can set up a watch on anyone we identify. Jarrod, do you think you could persuade Mr. Brichard to arrange another gold shipment? If we set up surveillance from that end, we might be able to connect the dots from bank or stage line to Corinth and hopefully, the rest of the gang"

Jarrod nodded his approval. "I don't know if he'll agree, but I'll ask him. Are you and Nick heading back to Corinth tomorrow?"

Heath pondered that then shook his head no. Nick blinked in surprise: he'd expected a quick turnaround.

Heath explained, "Nick, I want you to go with Jarrod. You're gonna need extra people to watch the bank and stage line employees after they find out about the shipment."

Nick wasn't thrilled with Heath being on his own, but conceded that they would need the extra people in San Francisco. "I don't know, Heath. Can I trust you to stay out of trouble by yourself?"

Heath's eyebrows knit together as he snorted his indignation, and Jarrod smiled at the teasing. Truth was, though, that all three of them were pretty good at getting into trouble. Nick had just about decided it must be something they got from their father, but it didn't explain Victoria's abilities as well. Maybe the Barkley land was just cursed. Or the vaunted Barkley luck had a down side that no one ever mentioned. 


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12

Arriving in San Francisco the following afternoon after a hearty breakfast from Silas and a loving sendoff from Mother and Audra, Nick waited semi-patiently as Jarrod explained the plan to Pierre Brichard who wanted to end the string of robberies, but was understandably hesitant about risking another shipment. He was doubtful that any of his people were cooperating with the gang. However, Jarrod was persuasive that all bases needed to be covered to find the people involved.

Finally, it was decided that Brichard would announce a shipment for the following afternoon. And despite his insistence that none of his people were involved, he had a list handy of all the people at his bank who would be notified following the planned shipment. Maybe he wasn't all that certain of his employees' innocence after all.

Following this, Nick and Jarrod notified Lawrence O'Meara with the stage line of the planned shipment and then met a representative from the Pinkertons that Jarrod had previously worked with. Going over the list of bank and stage employees, they decided that they would need thirteen operatives the following day plus Nick and Jarrod to cover the fifteen people on the combined lists. They had home addresses of the men involved and would be following them beginning the next morning. Once all the details were worked out, the detective, Alexander Lowe, left to notify his people of their assignments. Then they sent Heath a telegram in Corinth so that he would begin his observation of the telegraph office the following afternoon.

After their busy day, Nick insisted Jarrod take him out to dinner. But knowing that they both had an early morning, they made a decently early evening of it.  
*****

Bright and early the next morning, Nick enjoyed an excellent breakfast at Jarrod's table, and the two of them headed off to their assignments. Nick was to follow Asa Myers, a clerk in the accounting department, and Jarrod was on his old friend Edwin Ambrosi.

Nick was expecting a pretty boring day, and he was not disappointed. By nine in the morning, he and Jarrod were sipping coffee with Alex Lowe at a cafe across from the Brichard bank. Lowe pointed out the other agents on station as their charges arrived at work and confirmed the stage employees were being watched too.

The shipment was announced just after noon, so Nick hoped that there would be some action soon. But unfortunately, only one of the agents had to take off to follow his subject. The rest of them continued to await their quarries to exit.

Finally about four that afternoon, customer traffic decreased, and employees began to leave. One by one, the other agents drifted off after their charges. Nick got up and waved to Jarrod as he finally set off after Asa Myers. The plan was to follow the subjects till they got home, stay until ten that evening to make sure they were not leaving for the night, record any visits by them or to them and meet back at the Pinkerton offices afterwards for a full report by all the agents.

Unfortunately, Nick's man wasn't much for night life. He went to two shops, bought bread, picked up laundry, went home, and didn't leave for the rest of the evening. Just after the appointed hour of ten, Nick was in Lowe's office comparing notes. A few of the subjects had gone to saloons, one had gone to a dance hall, one had gone to a musicale, and one had made a visit to a house of ill repute. As each agent came in, their stories were added. Good natured teasing and laughter was in progress when Jarrod finally walked in, and Nick immediately knew something was wrong.

Nick gave him a probing look to try and discern the problem. Surprisingly, Jarrod ignored Lowe's questions and asked for the reports of the other agents first. As the routine, occasionally amusing, reports rolled off, Nick noticed subtle changes in Jarrod's grim visage. Finally, after the last subject's movements were described, Jarrod's face had turned a shade of gray that Nick began to suspect was due to Edwin Ambrosi.

Sure enough, Jarrod dropped into a chair and washed his face with both hands, and Nick was dreading what his brother would say. Finally, he began. "It seems, gentlemen, that I have followed the man that might be our prime suspect.

"Edwin Ambrosi left the bank after closing and went directly to the telegraph office on Nolan Street. He was in there from 4:15 to 4:30 and then went next door to a restaurant for coffee. He received a telegram about 5:00. The telegraph operator knew exactly where to find Mister Ambrosi, so he must have told him to expect a reply and where to deliver it. I now suspect he may have done this many times before; Alex, we'll need to talk to the telegraph operator. After that, he ordered supper, left the restaurant about 6:45, went home, and lights were extinguished at his apartment at 9:30."

Nick's heart went out to Jarrod as the implications began to sink in. Their old friend—Jarrod's good friend—appeared to be their strongest suspect. Still...

"We don't know for sure, Jarrod. We'll need to check with Heath to see if any telegrams were received in Corinth around 4:30."

Jarrod blinked and stirred himself to look across at Nick. He smiled sadly and nodded his appreciation. "I know, Nick. I've had plenty of time to think of all the possibilities, probabilities, and eventualities. There's still a lot of investigating to be done, and I propose that Alex come up with a plan to continue close observation of Mr. Ambrosi."

Lowe nodded and detailed two men to further assist him as he began to work out a schedule for following Ambrosi. This was to continue until an arrest was made, or he was proven innocent. Lists would be made of places he visited, people he met, and all activities.

Plans in place, Jarrod stood, and the two of them bid goodbye to Alex Lowe and his men. Leaving the building, Nick observed Jarrod's stooped shoulders and threw his arm around older brother's neck. But he was a bit puzzled by Jarrod's deep distress. He hadn't been this upset when he found out about Brett Skyler's career choices. "We don't know for sure, Jarrod."

He nodded. "I know. Thanks."

"Yeah. Are we heading to the telegraph office to check in with Heath?"

"I see no point in putting it off."

After sending off the message and notifying the operator where to deliver the expected response, they headed up Nob Hill to Jarrod's townhouse. They went into the study, and Nick moved over to the drinks caddy and poured them both a measure of scotch. Handing one to Jarrod, Nick's look conveyed sympathy. Jarrod glanced up, and his grim face eased a bit in appreciation. He gave Nick's arm a squeeze in response to the obvious worry.

After a couple of swallows that absorbed most of the fiery liquid, Nick heard a knock on the door. Meeting Jarrod's eyes, he moved to answer as Jarrod sat up straighter awaiting the verdict.

Opening the door, Nick took the telegram and tipped the messenger. Turning around and moving to stand in the door to the study, he ripped open the small envelope and read the telegram. Looking at Jarrod who was clearly bracing for bad news, Nick apologized with his eyes.

Jarrod shut his eyes and shook his head in regret and disappointment. Nick walked over and handed him the brief response that read:

TELEGRAM RECEIVED CORINTH 420 STOP  
RESPONSE SENT 435 STOP SUSPECT CONNECTION TO EVENTS STOP  
HB

"The one thing I didn't want to hear."

"Sorry, Jarrod. It's still not proof. There's a lot we still don't know."

Jarrod offered a reproachful, sad smile. "I know, but it's pretty strong circumstantial evidence."

Nick had no argument for that and waited for him to continue.

"If this turns out to be true... I just can't imagine what would cause him to be involved in something like this."

"What about good, old, everyday greed?"

"He was never like that. He was always generous with those less fortunate in school. I just can't imagine him being that way now, but I can't come up with anything else."

Nick tried to penetrate the puzzle of Jarrod's deep dismay that seemed out of proportion to an old acquaintance turned bad. "What's going on, Jarrod? There's something more, isn't there?"

Jarrod's eyes were vulnerable, unusually so. "Very perceptive, Brother Nick. I didn't realize I was so transparent."

"You wouldn't be to most anyone else."

Jarrod breathed a bitter laugh. "Nick, I owe Edwin Ambrosi. More than I can ever repay. The whole family does."

"How so?"

"Let me tell you a story that only Ed and I know. We were thirteen. It was just before they left the valley—just about a month. You were with father that day, Mother had just had Gene, and he was ill. Kept her and Silas pretty busy, and they didn't want Audra to come down with it as well. So I was detailed to watch her that day. Well, I really wasn't in the mood for it. I wanted to spend time with Ed; we knew he would be leaving soon, and I didn't want to waste it looking after her. We decided to go fishing. We were having a good time, and I was doing especially well that day. After lunch, we all three fell asleep. At some point, though, Audra woke up and wandered off.

He paused for a moment as his gaze turned inward. He winced, "She fell in, Nick."

Nick had suspected where this might be going when Jarrod mentioned their naps, but still, it came as a bit of a shock. He gasped at the implications.

Jarrod looked back at him, guilt all over him. "I didn't even know. Ed woke up and realized she was gone. I don't know if he heard the splash or her cries or what. He woke me, and we spread out looking for her. He found her in a pond trapped behind a beaver dam and jumped in to save her. I came running, but he did it. He got her out, and she coughed up about a gallon of water." He paused and took a deep breath. "Nick, he couldn't swim a lick. He could have drowned, but he didn't even hesitate. Without him, Audra might have died. And it would have been my fault.

Nick felt pity for the burden Jarrod had carried all these years.

"And he never told a soul. He knew how bad I felt—how guilty. Audra wasn't old enough to be able to talk about it, I was embarrassed and mortified. And that was about the time I was coming to the idea of becoming an attorney. I couldn't admit to Father or anyone else how irresponsible I'd been with my baby sister...not if I wanted him to take my decisions seriously. Edwin knew my plans and my situation. He promised not to tell anyone—ever. And he never did."

"Jarrod—" Nick didn't know what else to say in response.

"And then they left the valley. And moved again a couple more times. I lost track of him. And I regretted it. But then we met up again at school, and it was just like old times. Us together. Then he became ill and had to leave school, and I went east for the war. We lost touch again.

"But I never forgot him or what he did for me and the family. What I owe him. And I never expected him to be anything less than the honorable, honest man I knew."

Nick squeezed his shoulder. "This is going to sound easy and pat and...trite. But it's been a long time, and people change."

Jarrod shook his head, his gaze once again in the distant past. "I just never thought he would. I didn't think he had it in him."

Nick let out a deep sigh in sympathy for Jarrod's disillusionment. "How are you going to approach this going forward?"

Jarrod studied Nick intently and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Nick saw the resolve enter his eyes and knew that his brother, though still disappointed in the probable failings of an old friend, had now decided to try and turn the proverbial corner. Jarrod nodded once and aimed a look of gratitude toward Nick. "I'm gonna leave it in Alex Lowe's capable hands. I clearly have a conflict of interest, so I'll just...recuse myself in effect. I'll get the daily report from him and wait for updates from my brothers in Corinth. The shipment is in two days, and I'll wait for Heath's recommendation on whether I should be here or there when it all happens."

Nick was relatively cheered at Jarrod's resolve to try and separate himself from the situation. If all the pieces fell into place as it appeared they might, he knew older brother would still take it hard, but for the moment, Jarrod was trying to deal with this as he would any other case. Nick found his already great admiration for Jarrod growing. A little levity might lift his mood a bit. "Well, since you've got things pretty well controlled here, I'll head back to Corinth tomorrow to the brother that actually needs me."

Jarrod produced a feeble but real smile. "I'll always need you, Nick. Even if it's just to remind me not to get too big for my britches. But I agree, Heath needs you more than I do just now. He attracts trouble like a magnet. And this has the potential to generate a lot of trouble where he'll be right in the middle."

"Yeah, most of the developments from here on out will probably be there, and I don't trust that idiot sheriff to back him up." Nick felt himself getting angry just thinking about the lawman.

Jarrod's hackles came up, too. "It's sad, Nick, but we've all dealt with people like him since Heath came to us."

"Yeah, but it's odd that he hasn't seen the light to a certain extent. And Heath isn't usually putting his life at risk by letting the idiot watch his back, but he has no choice here."

"Yes. Even after the developments with Clive, the sheriff still can't get around his prejudice."

"Well, I suppose it's possible he's rethought his position since we went home, but I doubt he's smart enough to have done that. And despite wanting to stay here to help you with whatever happens with Ed, I don't think we can risk Heath's life by leaving him to handle this on his own. Even though I don't doubt he could do the job without my 'help' at all. Mostly, I've just stood around behind him being the tough guy."

Jarrod looked mockingly inquisitive. "Arms folded or fists on hips?"

Nick fought his grin and tried for gruff. "Both. I think they're equally effective."

Jarrod chuffed a small laugh. "Good point." He paused as his grin faded, and a shadow crossed his eyes again. "Well, you're leaving early. You better get off to bed."

Nick privately conceded that, but... "Heath isn't the only brother that needs me right now. I don't mind staying up if you want to talk…or get drunk."

Jarrod's look was fond and affectionate. "I appreciate that, Nick, but I'm going to try to not get bogged down in this. A lot of things have to happen before his guilt is sufficiently proven. I'm all right."

Nick's eyes probed Jarrod carefully for any deceit, but aside from some well-hidden, sad disappointment, Nick judged him to be on a pretty even keel. "All right. But if you need me tonight, come get me."

"I appreciate that, but this is just gonna take some time. I'll be fine. Take care of yourself and our little brother. Go get some sleep so you'll be ready for tomorrow. I'll worry about you otherwise."

Nick finally nodded. He squeezed Jarrod's shoulder in support and then turned and headed into the foyer and up the stairs. One last look back into the study showed Jarrod in deep contemplation.


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13

Heath took his time riding back to Corinth, thinking about the case as he went along. He and Jarrod had discussed it, and both felt it more likely the inside man was at the bank as opposed to the stage line. Not that they were neglecting the stage line, but the bank was the main thrust of the investigation at the moment.

When he arrived back in town, he went to the sheriff's office to update Boggs and Bert. The deputy seemed impressed, but typically, the sheriff just appeared uncomfortable with Heath's continued progress in the investigation. And he kept muttering bible verses under his breath. Heath was beginning to wonder just how much information the man took in. Not really a good situation when he might need back up in the next few days. Bert was a good sort, but Heath was concerned about his over-enthusiastic attitude and lack of practical experience. But wishing for better didn't change reality. Heath just hoped that Nick would be able to come back soon.

In the meantime, Heath pretty much just had to wait for developments in San Francisco and keep an eye out around town for suspicious activity. The sheriff seemed less than impressed about that, but given that these robberies had been going on over two months, and all he'd produced was the arrest of an innocent suspect, Heath decided he could pretty much discount his opinion.

That evening, Heath received a telegram notifying him of the scheduled shipment. Now he just needed to wait on information from the surveillance of the bank or stage employees who might be involved. That meant a long day tomorrow, just sitting around the telegraph office and finding out about any telegrams received in Corinth.

The following morning, Heath headed over to the telegraph office. Waiting in the door, the chief telegrapher looked up and grinned a welcome. Heath briefly smiled in return. The man was a terrible gossip. That could be both good and bad; good in that it was generally easy to get detailed, if not always correct, information, and bad that he tended to distribute the comings and goings of the deputies Barkley to anyone who showed any interest in their business.

"Howdy, Deputy Barkley! How are you this fine morning?"

"Just fine, Mr. Yancey. How're you?"

"Well, my rheumatism been paining my hands some. Makes writing out messages a bit troublesome. But I had some Whitestone Liniment that I got at a traveling medicine show. I rubbed some of that in last night and this morning. Already seems to be helping."

Heath tried politeness. "I've heard good things about that stuff."

Yancey nodded vigorously. "I think Earl over at the general store bought a good supply if you want to get some. I understand it's good for both people and animal doctoring."

Heath agreed but tried to move on. "Well—'

"Now, wait just a second. You're missing someone here. Where's that brother of yours? Ever since you come to work for the sheriff, we don't see one of you without the other. You're looking a bit lop sided without him."

Heath resolved not to do much to satisfy the town gossip but did want to stay on his good side. "Well, thank you for asking. Nick had some other business to take care of out of town. He'll be along shortly."

"Business to do with the stage robberies?"

"Yes."

Yancey waited for a moment for Heath to elaborate and then looked disappointed when Heath didn't continue. Instead he changed the subject. "Well, it's good news about Clive Keenan and Bessie Giles, huh?"

"Very good news. I'm happy for both of them."

Yancey nodded sagely. "You know, I never really thought that Keenan was guilty."

"I didn't think he had much support in town. Him being new to the area and all."

Yancey looked shocked but triumphant at the same time. "I know. Most folks didn't feel kindly toward him with them lawsuits he'd brought against our good settled folks, but personally, I never had nothing against him. And I guess Tivis Giles has forgiven him since he's letting his daughter marry up with him."

"I guess."

"Course what with young Billy involved in that frame up, that might've had something to do with it."

The telegrapher was fishing, but Heath wasn't biting. "I really don't know Mr. Giles that well. Don't know what his reasons are."

"Hmm." Yancey again reflected a bit of disappointment. "Well, all I know is that Keenan and Giles have dropped the lawsuit over the orchard, and Keenan and Miss Bessie is getting hitched. You know, we was all worried Miss Bessie might be a spinster."

"I guess she was just waiting on the right man."

Yancey smiled in agreement. "I guess she was at that. Now, what can I do for you this morning?"

"Well, I'm expecting a telegram today from one of my brothers. It's very important that I get that information right away. I'm going to be over at the restaurant working on my report for Sheriff Boggs pretty much all day. If you could tell your delivery boy that I'll be there, I'd sure appreciate it."

"Sure, sure. That's no problem."

"You know, now that I think on it, I might have some other work for him. Could you have him come over first thing this morning when he comes in? I promise it won't interfere with his duties here."

Yancey looked at him speculatively. "I guess I could do that. What would he be doing?"

"Just a couple extra errands for me. Since I'll be working on paperwork all day."

Yancey seemed reassured. "All right, I'll send him over."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Yancey. Good talking to you."

"And you, Deputy Barkley. You come back anytime."

Heath headed over to the restaurant. He really was working on the written report for the sheriff. He wanted all the legal loopholes closed so that Clive would never have to worry about this again. Plus, he didn't want to give the sheriff any further reason to discredit his investigation. Heath knew that many lawmen cared little for the paperwork associated with investigations, but having an attorney for a brother, Heath now fully understood the importance of crossing 'T's and dotting 'I's.

Sitting at a table at the front window in the restaurant, he notified the waitress that he would be there most of the day, and he wanted to keep a steady stream of coffee coming. The waitress was one of the owners, a kind, middle-aged lady named Mrs. Shelby. She reminded him somewhat of his Aunt Rachel—a bit tart but with a soft spot down deep. He and Nick had already managed to charm her into extra-large slices of the pies she made daily.

She gave him a disapproving look because taking up a table for most of the day would cause her and her staff problems, but Heath promised that his orders for the day would make it worth her time and effort. Finally, with a suspicious lift of one eyebrow that let him know that she was reluctant, she did concede that he could use her table and restaurant as his 'office' for the day.

Shortly, he had a steaming cup of coffee that was followed by a bowl of oatmeal and a heaping plate of steak, eggs, and tomatoes. Seeing the tomatoes, he aimed a smile in her direction, knowing that was not a normal part of breakfast. She looked at him rather condescendingly then walked off, ignoring his silent thanks. Heath breathed a laugh. Just like Aunt Rachel—absolutely refusing to acknowledge that she was giving him special treatment in any way.

About half way through his steak, Heath looked up and saw young Zeke Rollins come in. He was about twelve years old, the son of another local widow, and doing his best to supplement the family income. His mother cooked and waited tables here at the restaurant, and his two younger sisters helped out at home after school. Zeke worked for Yancey and around town doing odd jobs and tried to keep up his schooling at night. As he came toward Heath, he removed his hat and nodded briefly. "Mr. Yancey told me you might have a job for me, Deputy?"

"Yeah, Zeke, I was wondering if you could tell me who else in town gets telegrams today."

The boy looked surprised. "That's it?"

"Yes, but I'm wondering if you could stop by and tell me who is going to receive it before you make the delivery."

He shrugged. "Sure, no problem. Ma's working here today, and I usually stop and check in with her a few times a day. Or I can just walk by on the boardwalk and show you the envelope."

Heath nodded. "That'd be great. Also, if possible, I'd like you _not_ to tell Mr. Yancey about this. Can you do that?"

Zeke looked a little uncomfortable. "Why not?"

"Well, my investigation into the robberies requires some secrecy so that anyone involved in them isn't tipped off that I might be getting close. And Mr. Yancey...tends to talk a lot about other people's business."

Zeke reluctantly nodded agreement but then looked alarmed. "You think someone who gets a telegram today might be involved in the robberies?"

Heath shook his head and tried to reassure him, "No, not necessarily. I'm probably all wrong, but I need to check out everything."

Zeke still seemed discomfited about the possibility of a local connection to the robberies but finally agreed to the job.

"Now, Zeke, it's real important you don't mention this to anyone. I mean, _no one_ finds out what you're doing for me."

Zeke looked serious. "I understand, Deputy."

Heath took in the patched knees on slightly too short pants. "You get this right, I'll give you five dollars this evening."

The boy's eyes popped open in surprise and excitement, and his breathing picked up significantly. "You can count on me, sir. It'll be done."

Heath nodded once. "Good. It's settled then."

Zeke bit his lip and looked uncertain. "That seems like a lot to pay for such an easy job."

"Well, there's a bit more to it than you're thinking. There's letting me know who gets the telegrams and not telling Mr. Yancey or your mother or anyone else who asks. And you know they'll ask. It's important to me that it gets done right, that you make sure no one else finds out, and...well, I'm the son of a woman who had to raise a family on her own, too. I know that sometimes folks who hire you for a job don't pay you what you agreed to because you don't have a father to stick up for you. Right?"

Zeke lowered his eyes in embarrassed acknowledgement.

"So, I'm just trying to make up a bit for their dishonorable behavior."

"But that's not fair to you, Deputy. You shouldn't worry about making up for them. That's a problem between them and God."

"I know that. But I've been in your place, and I don't want you or your family to suffer while God settles his accounts with them fellers."

The young man eyed him briefly and finally nodded agreement to the amount of money he would be paid.

Heath continued, "Now, what are you gonna tell Mr. Yancey? What kind of job are you doing for me? You know he's gonna ask."

The boy thought for a bit. "Maybe you might ask if my ma and sisters take in laundry?"

Heath nodded and grinned. "Do your mother and sisters take in laundry?"

Zeke returned the smile. They understood each other. Now, he wouldn't be lying. "No, sir. Mr. and Mrs. Redmond occasionally do laundry, and they live out on Black Oak Road."

Heath nodded. "All right, you get on now, and let me finish my breakfast. Wait a second, let me go ahead and pay you now. That way, if I'm out running around tonight, you'll have your money."

"You don't have to do that. I've not done the work yet. You might not be happy with the job."

"We have an understanding; you're a man of honor. You're gonna fulfill your obligations. I want to make sure I fulfill mine. At some point, I'm gonna solve this case, and things sometimes happen real quick when it all breaks open. This way, I'll know I've not shorted you. I'll know my debts are paid." He dug out the five dollar gold piece and handed it to him.

Zeke fairly glowed and smiled shyly at him. He turned and headed outside. Heath watched him head over to the telegraph office and returned to his steak and eggs…and tomatoes.

Throughout the day, Heath worked on his report. He took time to make sure his notes were in order and then carefully mapped out a chronologically clear outline of the investigation of the case against Clive Keenan. The work was periodically interrupted by a refill of coffee, visits from Zeke as he delivered telegrams to folks in town, and more food around lunch time.

Late in the afternoon, Zeke brought a telegram and showed Heath the envelope. It was to George Morris, his house mate at the boarding house. Heath nodded briefly. "Let me know if he has any response, Zeke."

Zeke's eyes popped open. "You think it's him?"

Heath shook his head. "Don't go getting ahead of me. I don't know nothing. I'm just looking at events and trying to make some connections."

Zeke's excitement dimmed a bit. "Oh."

"Now, remember, no one knows about this. Not a peep to anyone—especially Mr. Morris. And Mr. Yancey. You got to act natural around them."

Zeke nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure."

Heath watched out the window as Zeke headed to the boarding house. Shortly, the young man came back out and headed down the street and back toward Heath and the telegraph office. He crossed the street and came down the boardwalk directly towards Heath. As he passed Heath's window, he tapped his finger on the envelope he carried and nodded briefly as he passed. Heath nodded and took a final sip of his coffee and pulled out his wallet. He laid five dollars on the table to cover his tab and gathered his paperwork.

He headed down to the stable and saddled Charger. He slid his papers into a saddlebag and mounted up heading for the Mossy Creek Road out of town to await George Morris's exit.

Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, Heath saw the man of the hour. Watching till he was almost out of site, Heath headed over to the tracks left by the horse. Studying briefly, Heath looked down the trail and remounted. Sending Charger forward at a trot, Heath kept one eye on the tracks and one on the horizon.

After a half hour or so, Heath noted the tracks were going to crest a ridge, and he dismounted so as not to alert anyone who might be watching on the other side. Poking his head up, he saw a long, dry plain stretching out in front of him with a rocky formation in the distance. He settled down to wait for a bit and pulled out his field glasses. Scanning the rocks, Heath was finally rewarded when he was able to see two lookouts leading into the rocky formation that Heath suspected might be a box canyon.

Another half hour passed, and Heath watched the lookouts signal with a wave and shortly thereafter, Heath saw a rider coming out. Studying the figure through the glasses, Heath identified him as George Morris. He nodded briefly and moved back away from the ridge down to where he Charger was waiting. Putting away the glasses, he mounted up and headed back to town ahead of Morris.

Coming back into town, Heath heard, "Deputy! Deputy Barkley!" and looked up to see Zeke coming at a run and waving a small envelope. As the boy ran up, Heath dismounted and tethered Charger.

"You got a telegram, sir. No one knew where you'd gone, so I kept an eye out for you. Thought it might be important."

Heath smiled at the boy's breathless enthusiasm. It took very little effort to make this responsible young man into a completely loyal assistant. "It might be. Thank you, Zeke."

Reading the brief message from his brothers, he could imagine Jarrod's disappointment in Edwin Ambrosi. He turned the paper over and wrote out a response. "Send this answer back." He pulled out the coins from his pockets to cover the transmission.

"Was it important? What you wanted to hear?"

"Actually, it's what I didn't want to hear." Zeke looked crestfallen, but Heath smiled at him. "But you did great today, kid. More than you know."

Zeke's disappointed eyes quickly began glowing. "Thank you, Deputy. Anytime you got a job, I'm your man."

"You take good care of your family. And if you ever need anything—a job, a reference, someone to vouch for you—you let me know. I live in Stockton. Anyone there can find me if you need to get in contact."

Zeke nodded in appreciation. "Yes, sir. I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

Heath nodded as well and turned to take Charger back to the livery. The next few days were going to be busy. Heath wondered when Nick would return. They had some plans to make. 


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14

The next morning, Heath was finishing his report after breakfast when Nick came in from the train station. "How's Jarrod?"

Nick shook his head. "Pretty down, but holding up. He's decided to let the Pinkertons handle most of the follow up on Ed Ambrosi and be available to us if we need him. Trying to treat it like any other case, but hoping to stay out of what's going on in San Francisco. He said he was 'recusing himself' since he had a 'conflict of interest.'"

"But he seems all right?"

"Well, he's upset. Understandably so. There's more to it than you know—stuff that happened when they were kids—and I'll tell you about it sometime when we're not in the middle of a mess. But he's handling it. I wouldn't have left him if I thought otherwise."

"Well, I'm sorry about this for his sake, but I'm glad you're here. We've got some plans to make."

He proceeded to update Nick on the new information on George Morris that seemed to confirm their suspicions about the robberies. Morris had returned to town about half an hour after Heath had arrived, and they'd had an interesting supper. Morris seemed upbeat and had attempted to pump Heath for information on the case. Mrs. Taylor commented on Morris's good mood and asked if he'd had a productive day in his business dealings. Morris smiled enigmatically and said he hoped for very good results imminently.

Nick nodded understanding. "Well, what are you thinking? Got any idea how we're going forward from here?"

After tossing ideas back and forth, they finally decided to ride out along the road the stage would be traveling. Hopefully, they would be able to get some idea of how the gang would approach the robbery.

Riding along, they came to a section where a tree had recently fallen and partially blocked the road. The beaten down vegetation showed that most folks had merely gone around the obstruction. Heath looked over the area and glanced at Nick. He saw the same speculative look on his brother.

Nick met his eyes. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yep. If I was looking to rob a stage, this is just where I'd set up. The stage has to slow down to get around the tree, and it would be smart to take advantage of that. Plus, there's plenty of cover for the gang to hide while waiting."

"And plenty to hide us if we get out here early enough."

Heath nodded. It's what he would do if he was looking to rob the coach. And if he'd been driving or riding shotgun, this was just the type of area that would have put him on his guard. "If we get out here at first light and are in place before the gang shows up, they'd never know we're here."

Nick thought about that. "If we—you, me, and Jarrod—got out here, sure. But I don't know that I'd want Sheriff Boggs here. He's just good enough at his job to bumble his way into revealing our plan before we spring it."

Heath winced and looked around the area. "Let's check out what else is around here. See what we can do to plan for that."

During the rest of the day, the brothers rode around and tossed ideas and arguments back and forth to try and plan for all possibilities. Towards supper time, they headed back to town and stopped by the telegraph office and sent a wire off to Jarrod asking him to come to Corinth. They thought they had a pretty good plan, but they needed more trustworthy people. Plus, it would get Jarrod out of the city where he couldn't dwell on his friend's complicity, and he would have the close support of his brothers.

Nick was heartily welcomed back for supper at the boarding house. The Taylor children had grown very fond of the old bear and were thrilled he was back. George Morris gently probed for information on the investigation, and Heath was vague but let his voice indicate that he and Nick had a disappointing, unproductive day. Morris expressed sympathy but seemed pleased nonetheless. Heath noted the reaction but avoided looking at Nick even when he felt his brother kick him under the table.

Even in their room that night, they avoided talking about the case. The interior walls weren't overly thick, and they didn't want to risk Morris overhearing anything that might tip him off. As Nick turned down their lamp, he looked at Heath one final time. "Night, Heath. Sleep good. Busy day tomorrow."

"Night, Nick. You, too."

A very busy day. 


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15

The following morning found Nick and Heath waiting for the early train and Jarrod. As he descended the steps, Nick examined him closely, trying to figure his mood. Moving closer, he judged that Jarrod was still down, but holding it together pretty well. He watched as Heath greeted their older brother warmly with a murmured, "I'm sorry, Jarrod."

"I am, too, Heath. Thank you."

Nick reached to shake hands with Pappy, "You all right?"

Jarrod nodded. "Yeah." He paused, then took a deep breath. "So, do you two geniuses have a plan yet, or is that why I'm here?"

Nick felt a small surge of warmth. Jarrod wanted back on familiar teasing territory, so he didn't have to dwell on his friend. Nick was glad to comply. "Heath, I think he just insulted us."

"Seems like he did, Nick. But I'm so bumfuddled ignorant that I'm not sure if he did or not."

"Yeah, we're just dumb cow pokes. What do we know about planning?"

"Good thing we got him around to help us out, huh?"

Jarrod broke in with a grin. "All right, all right. Enough already. Where are we going so you can explain this brilliant plan and what you're going to have me do?"

Nick couldn't help but frown briefly. "Let's head over to the sheriff's office. We're gonna have to include him on this, I reckon. No matter how much I don't like him."

Nick felt his hackles rise as they walked into the sheriff's office. The sheriff stood up and glanced at the three of them in turn, finally settling on Jarrod. Deputy Dodson smiled at the brothers but glanced back over at the sheriff in nervous anticipation.

Heath moved forward and handed the sheriff several pages. "Here's my final report closing the case against Clive Keenan. This is so there's never any question that he was involved in the robberies."

The sheriff looked a bit bewildered at the pages, kind of shrugged, and handed them off to his deputy. "Find somewhere for this, Bert."

The deputy looked at a loss and glanced back at Heath.

"Just put it in the file with the other information on the robberies."

"Sure, Heath."

Heath continued, "Well, Sheriff, we've had some developments and need to get you updated and run our plans by you."

Boggs nodded uncertainly but then burst out, "Well, it's about time. I don't appreciate being kept in the dark. I am the sheriff here, you know!"

Nick wanted to strangle the man, but Heath just nodded, always polite. "I beg your pardon; things have happened pretty fast, sir."

Boggs bobbed his head, apparently mollified. "All right, then. So tell me."

Heath proceeded to update the sheriff, Bert, and Jarrod regarding everything they had learned along with their suspicions of Edwin Ambrosi and George Morris. He also outlined his and Nick's movements the previous day.

"So, our thinking is that two of us will be waiting in sight of that downed tree while most of the posse you assemble are further away so we don't alert the gang. Once the gang shows, our men move in and catch them."

Boggs popped in, "What if the robbery don't happen at this tree? You seem to be putting all your eggs in that one basket, boy."

"We'll have two Pinkertons following the stage half an hour after it leaves the last way station. If the robbery goes down somewhere else, they'll notify us. Afraid that's the best we can do."

"How many men you figure we'll need?"

"Twelve to fifteen if we can get them. You think we can round up that many?"

"Maybe."

Nick glanced over at Bert who nodded reassuringly.

Sheriff Boggs continued, "Where're you figuring to put me and Bert?"

"Well, I'd like you to be with the posse just beyond the tree line. Nick and I will be on site near the fallen tree before daybreak and can signal you when the gang shows. We'll be able to see where they station all their men and then be able to notify you where they are. That way, we'll be able to catch all of them and not let any slip through the net. But you know the local men best and will be able to judge who's dependable enough to work on his own and who to keep a closer eye on."

Nick was amused at Heath's ability to come up with a good reason to keep the sheriff back from immediate contact with the gang. His little brother was sneaky.

Boggs looked back at Jarrod. "Where're you gonna be?"

Jarrod looked at younger brother. "Heath?"

"Well, I'd like you to be back with the sheriff, Jarrod. That all right with you?"

"Wherever you want me is fine, Heath. Whatever you think best." Nick appreciated Jarrod's visible show of support for Heath in front of Sheriff Boggs.

The sheriff looked at Jarrod to judge his determination to leave Heath in charge. Seeing his resolve, Boggs turned back to Heath. "Well, all right. When do we need to have the men out there?"

"Nick and I will be there at first light. The stage is due out of the last way station at eleven. I think if you and the men are in position by half past nine, we should be good. What do you think?"

The sheriff appeared to chew on that as he glanced at all of them. Then he shrugged. "Sounds all right."

Just then the door opened, and Clive walked in. "Hey!"

Greetings were exchanged with handshakes all around except for the sheriff who looked dyspeptic. He interrupted, "What are you doing here, Keenan?"

"I heard that Jarrod came in on the train and that all the Barkleys headed over here. Figured maybe you might be ready to take on that gang. I'd like to be a part of that."

Boggs looked alarmed. "I don't think that would be a good idea given the suspicion you were under."

Clive looked determined. "This gang nearly ruined my life. I need to have some part of bringing them down."

Jarrod nodded. "Sheriff Boggs, Mr. Keenan has been completely cleared. I see no reason why he couldn't take part. And we need every good man we can get."

Heath nodded. "I agree."

Nick frowned at the lawman. "Me, too." He folded his arms and turned back to the sheriff in challenge.

Boggs looked at Clive, the Barkleys, and Bert. "Well, I think it's a bad idea, but apparently none of you agree, so I guess I'm out-voted."

Heath looked around. "Well, you're in charge of the men, Sheriff. It's your decision."

The sheriff shook his head vehemently and waved his hands. "No, you all want him, then it's fine with me. I just think it's irregular. Very irregular. And I'm sure there must be a verse in the Good Book about a situation like this; I just can't come up with it right now. But if he wants in, and you want him along, then fine."

Clive paused then answered, "Thank you, Sheriff. And all the rest of you." Turning to the Barkleys, he added, "I'd like to invite all of you over for dinner. Bessie's making supper at her father's place tonight. Can you come?"

Nick grinned. "Maybe you should check with your intended, Clive? She may not appreciate three extra guests."

Clive grinned and shook his head. "She's at the mercantile. She sent me to invite you when we heard you was all here."

Nick glanced at his brothers and turned back. "We'd be pleased. Tell her I'm gonna be hungry."


	16. Chapter 16

Part 16

The following morning as the sun came up over the eastern horizon, Nick and Heath crawled forward to the ridge line where they could view the area around the fallen tree. Careful examination revealed they were alone at the moment. They took turns keeping an eye out while occasionally discussing whatever came across Nick's mind. It was pretty typical for him to carry their conversations along, and after he got used to it, it had ceased to bother him. His younger brother just wasn't a conversationalist and never would be. And since Nick had enough of that ability to make up for this obvious flaw in his brother's character, he figured that was just another way they balanced each other. They shared the breakfast they had raided from the Taylor's larder that morning as they discussed the gang, the expected robbery, Jarrod, the ranch, breeding both cattle and horses, Nick's most recent romantic encounter with Miss Rose Delaney, and the meal they hoped Silas would have ready for them when they finally got back to the ranch. Among other things.

Just after nine o'clock, Heath left to go meet Jarrod and Sheriff Boggs with the men from town and get them squared away for the expected showdown. He brought Clive back with him, and Nick greeted him warmly, remembering the excellent supper they'd enjoyed the previous evening.

Clive crept up to the ridge alongside Heath and took his own look-see. As the three of them took in the landscape and Heath pointed out the area of expected action, they heard the approach of hooves. Shortly, a group of eight men rode into the area. They came up to the fallen tree, and one of the men appeared to give some orders. Shortly, the men scattered to take up covering positions that encircled the area around the fallen tree.

Heath pulled out his ever present notebook and pencil stub. He quickly sketched out a map and noted the number and location of the gang members. He ripped off the page, handed it to Clive, and gave him some further whispered instructions. Clive nodded and crept away to inform Sheriff Boggs and Jarrod of the gang's arrival.

Nick looked over at Heath who met his glance and offered a brief smile of relief that they had guessed correctly. Nick knew that Heath was concerned that they had gone all in with the plan around the fallen tree, and that one big unknown was now bridged. At this point, it was just dealing with the nerves and anticipation of the confrontation yet to come.

Nick knew from past experience that some men had great difficulty with waiting. They got jumpy and nervous especially if they had little or no experience in this type of action. Nick was counting on Jarrod, Bert, and Clive to hopefully recognize and address any problems with the men from town. Nick's hope that this would be taken care of got a huge boost when Jarrod agreed to accompany Sheriff Boggs and the rest of the posse. And, of course, that's why Heath asked him anyway.

As for Nick, he was certain that time must have slowed down as they waited for the appearance of the stage coach. Looking at Heath, his brother seemed completely calm, self-assured, and not any more concerned than when he was working out a branding schedule: alert, intent, and prepared, but not nervous or anxious in the least. Of course, Nick knew there was a certain level of anxiety in his brother, but anyone observing him would not have detected it in the man who was essentially running the operation. Nick took a lot of pride in that fact. Their father would have as well.

After what seemed like a month of Sundays, the stage coach appeared around the bend in the road. Alert for anything, Nick watched as the driver and guard quickly noticed the fallen tree. Approaching the obstacle, the stage coach slowed down. The gang members now in the rear of the coach came out of hiding and closed around the back end. Shortly, all of the gang came out, brandishing rifles or handguns. Nick watched as the leader called for the driver to stop. Seeing the gang surrounding the coach, the driver pulled back on the reins, and the horses brought the stage to a jerky halt. The driver and guard quickly threw down their weapons and raised their hands.

Just before the leader started to speak again, Heath lifted his rifle into the air and let off a shot. A ripple of shock went through the gang, and their heads turned in all directions till Heath stood up and yelled, "You're surrounded! Throw down your weapons!"

All eyes were on Heath and the gang leader, and the men waited for the next move from either combatant. Nick watched as the gang leader tried to take Heath's measure. Nick stood up beside his brother and then watched as Jarrod, Clive, Bert, Boggs, and the rest of the posse rode in and circled the gang demonstrating that the thieves were, in fact, surrounded.

The gang leader took it in, let out a deep breath, and dropped his weapon. The other gang members slowly followed suit, and they all raised their hands. Heath called out for them to dismount and drop their reins. Heath ordered the teamster to pull the coach out of harm's way.

Heath called out, "Clive!"

Nick watched as Clive and three other men moved in and collected the gang's horses. Nick silently applauded his brother again for planning ahead. Less chance of any of the gang attempting an escape without a horse close by.

Once Clive and the other men were clear, Heath called out, "Move in!" The posse moved forward, and the gang members slowly backed into a tighter circle. Nick kept an eye on the leader who continued to eye Heath like a coiled rattler.

Heath called once again, "Sheriff?"

Boggs high pitched voice sang out, "You're all under arrest for robbery!"

Nick continued to watch the stare down between Heath and the gang leader. Heath slowly moved forward till he stood about two yards from his opponent. It brought Nick to mind how his brother occasionally approached headstrong horses. While most were won over with his touch and gentleness, a fair number resisted and required a heavier hand and attitude. This type of stare down was an occasional occurrence in the training paddock. Nick had only seen his brother lose the contest once or twice, and those horses remained unbroken to this day. Nick was pretty sure the gang leader didn't stand much chance, but the showdown was always interesting to watch.

Just then Nick saw Sheriff Boggs move forward as he hollered out, "Now, listen here, you! You's been told to give up!"

Nick tried to pull him back, but the sheriff quickly pushed his way between Heath and the gang leader. Heath broke off his stare to try and keep the sheriff out of his line of fire, but the gang leader seized the opportunity by stepping forward and making a grab for Heath's rifle. The sheriff was knocked back and out of danger in their struggle. Nick tried to draw a bead on the leader but couldn't shoot without the chance of hitting his brother. He heard Jarrod call out to the rest of the gang to hold still.

Boggs pulled himself to his feet and tried to move in again and separate them. Heath, still struggling over control of the rifle, tried to push him back to safety, and the gang leader managed to wrest control of the rifle. He turned the stock into a club as he took it upside Heath's temple. Heath crumpled to the ground and out of Nick's line of fire. His rifle rang out, and the bullet entered the leader's arm, causing him to drop Heath's Mexican from his suddenly nerveless fingers.

The crook started to reach for the rifle again, but Nick called out, "Not another move!"

Heath struggled to push himself to all fours and managed to pull his rifle out of the crook's reach. "I wouldn't try it. He's won the rifle shooting at the state fair five years running. He could take the wings off a fly this close."

On the edge of his vision, Nick saw someone else moving and realized it was Jarrod. He had his handgun drawn and kept his eye on the leader as he reached down to give Heath a hand up. The gang leader glanced from Nick to Jarrod and apparently decided he wouldn't be successful in another attempt. He finally raised his one working arm and took a couple steps back.

Heath nodded thanks to Jarrod. "Get him secured. Bert?"

Deputy Dodson nodded, and he and several men moved to the gang members and began tying their hands behind them.

Boggs tried to regain some semblance of respect after the earlier blunder. "Yeah! You men just give yourselves up. You can't win. You give us any trouble, you'll end up slung over the back of your horses. Makes no never mind to us how we get you back to town!"

The responding silence from both the gang and the posse made Nick shake his head. He wondered how many of these men now had a different opinion of their sheriff.

Soon, Bert and his boys had the gang members bound, and Clive and his men brought the horses back in. Half the posse remounted and moved in to gather the reins of the gang's horses. Nick finally relaxed as it appeared the job was pretty well wrapped up. He moved over to where Jarrod was attempting to clean the blood off Heath's head. "You all right?"

Heath nodded carefully so not to jerk his head away from Jarrod's careful ministrations. Nick looked at the jagged rip that continued to trickle blood and shook his head. "That stupid idiot. What was he thinking? The man has no business in that job—has no idea what he's doing."

Heath flashed a grin at Jarrod. "The old bear's growling again."

Jarrod nodded. "Grumble, grumble, mutter, mutter..."

Nick fought his own grin and attacked them instead. "Am I wrong? Tell me you think I'm wrong, and I'll call you both a liar."

Heath sighed. "Nick, he was trying to make sure everyone saw him as being in charge instead of me. He needed to show his authority."

Nick breathed a skeptical grunt. "I know _why_ he did it. But it was a stupid move that only put himself—and then you—at risk. And when you had to protect him, it gave that guy his chance to escape. And _every_ man here knows that idiot screwed up!"

Jarrod shook his head. "I have to agree with the old bear, Heath. It was a stupid move motivated only by his own vanity."

Heath didn't answer immediately because there was no argument to counter it. "He shouldn't have done it, but I understand why. I won't hold it against him."

Jarrod shook his head. "You're more charitable than I would be, Heath. And probably more so than the majority of the men who witnessed this today. I wonder if they won't be asking someone else to be sheriff pretty soon. It showed very poor judgment at the most crucial point in the entire operation."

Heath sighed, but he did not attempt to reply to that argument. "I never meant to embarrass him."

Nick snorted. "He took care of that all on his own. He didn't need your help."

"He wouldn't have been in the position of needing to prove himself if he didn't feel threatened by me in the first place."

"He wouldn't have been arresting the whole gang if it wasn't for you. He'd still be twiddling his thumbs and planning to send Clive to jail for the rest of his life!" He paused a second, " Well, and Jarrod helped out. And me. And the Pinkertons."

Jarrod flashed an amused grin, but Heath successfully fought his. He didn't reply because Nick knew he wouldn't be able to hold back his smile. And he'd never let Nick know he'd won. Heaven forbid.

Clive came over. "Heath, you all right? Your head looks terrible."

"Thanks, Clive. Guess there's not much chance of me stealing Bessie away from you looking like this, huh?"

"Now, see, I always figured there was a reason you were doing this. You just wanted to look like a big hero and steal my girl."

"You figured me out. Maybe she'll want to nurse me back to health? I'm sure I'll need nursing by a pretty lady."

Nick pushed in, "Which you know Audra will be happy to provide. Just wait till you get home, and Mother sends for Doc to take another look at that iron-hard head of yours."

Heath let out another deep sigh, admitting defeat. "Jarrod, you about done?"

Nick detected the pain in his brother's voice, and Jarrod apparently did as well. "I guess it'll hold till we get you back to the boarding house. Is there a doctor in Corinth?"

Clive answered, "Nope. Closest one is over in Greeley."

Jarrod shrugged. "Well, I guess you're stuck with just me and Nick waking you up all night and making sure you know what day it is."

The fatigue was evident. "Yeah. Listen, Jarrod, Nick...one of you needs to go with the sheriff and arrest George Morris. See if we can search his room and find the telegram from Ambrosi. And we need to send the telegram to Alex Lowe to get Ambrosi arrested. We need to get this wrapped up and not let anyone get away."

Nick eyed his brother and winced at the discomfort he detected in his voice and face. He looked at Jarrod. "You'll know all the rules the sheriff has to follow to arrest Morris, but I'll go if you'd rather."

Jarrod returned his gaze. "No, I'll go with him. I'd rather make sure it's all legal, and Morris won't have any loopholes to slip through. Why don't you make sure Heath gets to bed and then send the telegram to Alex."

Heath looked at both of them with weary eyes. "Let's just go, huh?"


	17. Chapter 17

Part 17

The sheriff, Bert, and the posse brought the gang into the jail while Nick, Jarrod, and Clive followed behind at a slower pace making sure Heath didn't develop a problem on the return to town.

When they got back to the boarding house, Heath was a little gray, and Mrs. Taylor swept in with cold water, liniment, and bandages. The broken skin was cleaned, and the bleeding stopped. Heath endured it with a minimum of fuss and then headed to bed.

Jarrod and the sheriff arrested George Morris then went to the sheriff's office where Jarrod advised Boggs on charging the gang members and the procedures that needed to be followed since the sheriff had never dealt with such a large arrest. The county prosecutor and circuit judge were wired along with Alex Lowe and the banker, Pierre Brichard, regarding the pending arrest of Edwin Ambrosi.

After these details were complete, Nick and Jarrod returned to the Taylor Boarding house. Heath had woken easily at their prompting, but declined supper and went back to sleep. Throughout the evening, they continued to rouse him periodically without difficulty till around midnight when he finally begged them to leave him be. Nick and Jarrod eyed each other and nodded that Heath seemed fine, and they could lay off further checks. Plus, they were both tired as well. It had been a long day.

Getting up the next morning, Heath confessed to a low headache but insisted on accompanying them to San Francisco to see Edwin Ambrosi. They had a good breakfast, and Nick and Jarrod watched closely to make sure Heath wasn't off his feed. After checking in with Sheriff Boggs, the three brothers boarded the train for the city.

The previous evening, Jarrod had received a telegram from Alex Lowe confirming the arrest of Ambrosi. Nick watched a shadow fall on his brother that still had not lifted this morning. Sitting on the train, Nick told Heath of the developments and all that Ambrosi had done for their family when he and Jarrod were younger. Heath shook his head in sympathy at the depression evident in their older brother.

Getting off the train, they headed toward the Pinkerton office. Nick noticed Jarrod was being very attentive to Heath, making sure he suffered no lingering effects, and surprisingly, Heath was allowing it. Then Nick felt a wry grin break across his face. Heath knew Jarrod was trying to distract himself from the upcoming confrontation, and Heath's injury was the easiest thing to concentrate on.

When they entered Alex Lowe's office, Jarrod introduced Heath. Lowe expressed admiration for Heath's handling of the investigation and, kiddingly, offered him a job.

Nick jumped in as he shook the Pinkerton's hand. "Back off there, Lowe. That's my ranching partner you're trying to poach there."

Lowe laughed. "But, clearly, his talents are wasted on that ranch."

Nick grinned. "That's 'cause you've never seen him punch cows. His abilities at repairing fence would leave you breathless, and let me just say that when he turns his hand to shoveling manure, well, there's just no one finer."

Heath just grinned. "Mr. Lowe, I appreciate the offer, but I've done sheriffing before for Frank Sawyer. It's good work, but I know what I was meant to do and where I belong."

Lowe showed surprise. "Frank Sawyer? Jarrod didn't mention that. If I'd known that, I'd have tried harder to recruit you before."

Glancing at Jarrod, Nick saw all this teasing was just delaying the inevitable. Jarrod was trying for a light attitude, but the downcast set to his bearing indicated he was just waiting for the worst.

Shortly, the four of them headed to the police station where Ambrosi had been detained. On the way, Lowe explained the arrest as it had occurred the previous evening.

The bank president, Pierre Brichard, had called Ambrosi to his office. He arrived and found his boss, Lowe, and a police sergeant waiting for him. Ambrosi appeared ready, willing, and able to do whatever Brichard requested until Lowe and the officer had been introduced. Initially, he had acted offended, but as the arrest proceeded, Ambrosi's face fell, and he had stopped speaking. He was arrested and taken to the jail and remained there this morning. Lowe was hoping that Jarrod's appearance would get him to open up because he was still not communicating.

Jarrod's face was determined as the four of them entered the cell block. In the first cell on the left, Ambrosi was on the bunk leaning dejectedly against the wall. At the opening of the door, he looked up and clearly recognized Jarrod as his face lit up immediately.

"Jarrod! Thank God! You came!" He gave a relieved sigh as he jumped up and closed the distance between them. "I can't believe they found you so quick. You're the only lawyer I'd want. I know you'll never give up on me."

Jarrod's face was grave. "Edwin, I will certainly represent you if you choose, but you may not want me after you hear what I have to say. I was actually involved in your arrest."

"What are you talking about? You know I didn't have anything to do with this."

"Edwin, you remember Nick, but you haven't met my brother, Heath." Jarrod turned and nodded to the brothers backing him up. "Nick and Heath have been working for the sheriff down in Corinth on some stage coach robberies. We've been in contact with the Brichard Bank. We followed all the employees who knew of the gold shipment on yesterday's stage." He paused briefly. "I followed you."

Edwin's eyes drifted away, "And what did you see?"

"I saw you send a telegram and wait for an answer. A telegram that we recovered from George Morris's room in Corinth last night when we arrested him."

Edwin's voice lacked enthusiasm, "Jarrod, you know this is ludicrous. There's been a huge mistake."

"Then explain it to me. I want to believe you. More than anything I want that."

His eyes roamed the cell, the floor, the other people in the room, but he never met Jarrod's steady gaze. He made no reply.

"Ed, I'll represent you in court. I'd do anything for you. You know that."

"I need someone who believes in me."

"Give me a reason to believe you weren't part of this."

Edwin's silence spoke volumes.

Nick glanced at Jarrod. His brother's face would never reveal the pain that Edwin's silence brought on, but Nick could see it all. Jarrod's court-honed stoicism stood him in good stead now.

Ambrosi closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "Jarrod, I…" Silence reigned for a few moments.

"You what, Ed? What? Tell me! What could possibly have happened that caused you to get involved in something like this?"

Ambrosi eyed his former friend with resignation. "I need a lawyer, Jarrod. If it's not going to be you, find me someone good, huh?"

"Edwin! Please. Explain this to me. Help me understand! I'll represent you even if you were involved. Please."

Ambrosi slumped back down on the cot and leaned back against the wall again. "Find me a lawyer, Jarrod."

Nick saw Jarrod's eyes narrow minutely and after staring at Ambrosi for a bit, he turned away. Heath followed and Nick did as well after a final glare at the man who had caused his older brother such pain.

Back in the outer office, Jarrod was leaning on a desk, his head hung low. Heath stood close, his hand gripping Jarrod's shoulder in solidarity.

Nick moved in close to them. "He's changed, Jarrod. He's not the same kid we used to know."

Jarrod nodded and let out a deep frustrated breath. Finally, he stood straight again and turned to look at them. "I know, Nick. But unless he explains this in a confession, I'll probably never know why he did this. Greed? Boredom? Has he possibly gone mad?"

Nick felt sympathy for his brother who was used to having all the answers. People came to him for help because he was good at fixing things. But right now, he was floundering. "In the long run, will it really matter? Whatever his reasons were, could it ever really explain this? He's still going to prison. It's not going to matter what his reasons were."

"No, but if it can happen to someone I thought I knew—someone I never would have expected this from—then it can happen to anyone. If I knew why, maybe I could prevent it from happening to someone else. I would have done anything in my power to help him. If he needed money..."

Heath squeezed Jarrod's shoulder. "Outside of a few close family and friends, do we ever really _know_ anybody? I mean _really_ know them?"

Jarrod reflected and nodded agreement to Heath's statement.

Heath eyed Nick and continued, "Well, except for Nick. The man in the moon knows how Nick feels about pretty much everything. Nick just can't help himself."

Nick knew his role at this point—the angry, indignant sputter was expected. "Now, wait just a cotton-picking minute here, Heath! I can conceal my feelings whenever I darn well please!"

"Now, Nick, don't go getting all riled up."

Nick saw Jarrod's weary grin slowly reveal itself as he looked fondly at Nick and Heath arguing away as usual. He'd heard what they said. And understood what they didn't.

And when he stepped between them placing a hand on each chest, Nick knew Jarrod was going to play along, for a while anyway. Jarrod could be a brooder, but Nick knew his older brother was going to work hard to keep this from bogging him down too long.

"Children, before you two get really loud and the local constabulary see fit to jail you for disturbing the peace, I'm going to suggest that we adjourn this 'discussion' to my study and see if my imported scotch can aid in the resolution of the debate."

Nick eyed both his brothers as they all exchanged glances and nods and turned as one toward the exit.


	18. Chapter 18

Part 18

One month later, Heath looked to the front of the church as Bessie Giles was escorted down the aisle by her father. Awaiting her, Clive, standing with his best man, Billy, had eyes for no one else. Truly, Bessie was a vision in a light blue dress with white flowers in her hair and bouquet. Her happiness seemed to fill the room, overflowing into the guests gathered in the small church.

The ceremony proceeded quickly and afterward, the party moved to the Giles farm where food and drink were abundant. Heath figured the entire town was there—Yancey, Mrs. Shelby, the widow Thompson and her children, Zeke Rollins and his family. Even Boris Vardosky had come up from his hole in the ground to attend. Heath was glad they could all set aside their differences long enough to celebrate.

Except for Eugene, the entire Barkley family had turned out for the party. Audra was finding no end of young men to fill her dance card, and Victoria certainly wasn't spending an excessive amount of time sitting down either. All three of the Barkley boys had twirled several ladies from town along with the new Mrs. Keenan.

Sipping some punch, Heath felt a nudge from behind and turned to find Clive. Heath set his cup down, and they embraced.

"Heath, I'm so glad you're here. I just can't thank you enough. I count the day I met you as one of the luckiest of my life. Sitting in that jail, I was about as far down as I've ever been. But in just a few hours, I was free. A few days later, I had my girl back. And just a few weeks after that, I've been completely cleared of any crime, and the woman I love is today my wife. And I've got a family. I won't ever be alone again. I don't know how to tell you how grateful I am. You just have no idea, Heath."

Heath felt a blush color his face. He did know how Clive felt. He only had to remember what it was like to be alone in the world. "We were glad to do it. Please, I consider it a gain for our family, and me especially, to be able to count you as a friend. Consider any debt paid in full."

Clive shook his head. "I feel like I've gained more from your friendship that you have from mine."

Heath smiled. "I've never had so many friends that I don't need one more. My life has made it hard for me to make real friends that I could count on no matter what."

"Well, you can be certain that I'll be one from now till I get planted. And so's Bessie and any kids we hope to have. They're gonna know what you did for us. Any time you need anything from me or my family, consider it done if it's in my power to make it happen."

Heath decided a change of subject was in order because he wasn't comfortable with all this gratitude. "So when are you and your lovely bride gonna be starting this family? Seems like it's about time to collect her and get started on the honeymooning."

Clive dropped his eyes, but glanced back up with mischief on his face. "I think I could be persuaded."

Heath grinned and slapped his back. "Yeah, I kind of thought you might."

Shortly, the Barkleys stood together watching the Keenans drive off toward Clive's ranch. Looking around at his family, he reflected on some of the changes that had occurred since he'd first agreed to meet Jarrod in Corinth.

Jarrod had discovered an old friend's involvement in this series of robberies. That had been tough for him as Heath knew that while Jarrod was very much a realist in most issues, he tended to view his friends idealistically until reality slapped him in the face. Ambrosi was looking at a long prison term. Jarrod was still having trouble with what his friend had done, but nothing could be done to change any of it. He had recommended a couple of good attorneys and left his former friend to decide his own course as that's the way Ambrosi seemed to want it.

Sheriff Boggs had not changed his opinion of Heath; in truth, it was probably worse as he now blamed Heath for causing the town to doubt his abilities as sheriff. Jarrod had done some work on Heath's behalf when he persuaded the governor to send a letter of gratitude to Boggs thanking him for his part in busting the gang. That letter had been published in the local and state papers, and the sheriff had received a number of congratulatory telegrams. And while the local population had been justifiably proud of the good publicity Corinth had received, in private, there had been a number of grumblings as the truth of the sheriff's actions made the rounds. And the sheriff was aware of all of it. He took full credit for the benefits of the arrests, but he blamed Heath for all the negatives. Heath had experience with this type of thing in the past, and he knew there wasn't anything he could do to remedy the situation. The man was just stubborn in his prejudices, and there never would be a chance Heath could change his mind.

Deputy Bert Dodson, though, had come to Heath before he and his brothers left town after the arrests and thanked him for the good work. Bert said he'd learned a lot from Heath about sheriffing and how to run an investigation and then the planning of the arrest, the posse, and the whole operation. Heath assured him he was just passing on what he had learned from Frank Sawyer. Heath hoped the town gave Bert a chance at sheriff when the next election came around.

And once again, he, Nick, and Jarrod had become even more certain of each other. Heath knew Nick was protective of him, but Sheriff Boggs had posed no real threat to him physically. Yet Nick had reacted with claws out in defense of Heath's honor as a man and a Barkley. And while Heath hadn't actually needed that, the support had warmed his heart. Jarrod had been very indignant and demanding when he got Heath and Clive out of jail. His mother and sister had reacted in a manner demonstrating their support and considered completely severing ties with Tom's old friend, Sheriff Boggs. It sure was nice having a family.

Watching the Keenans carriage disappear over the horizon, Heath prayed their future turned out as good as Heath's present was. While Heath appreciated the freedom he enjoyed in having money to do, buy, or give away pretty much anything he pleased, he knew that his true wealth was embodied in the people surrounding him. The recent time spent in Corinth only confirmed that, and Heath knew he would be forever grateful for being brought into the Barkley fold.


End file.
